


Meet Me In The Aftermath

by Jessocalypse, Kyokaen



Category: One Piece
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Black Markets, Canon-Typical Violence, Clumsiness, Corazon is too good for this world, F/M, Family Drama, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Mercenaries, Partners to Lovers, Pirates, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, even if only for a little while, he deserves to have nice things, lots and lots of clumsiness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 22:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 103,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4683863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessocalypse/pseuds/Jessocalypse, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyokaen/pseuds/Kyokaen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donquixote Rocinante cut his teeth on a number of undercover missions before ultimately infiltrating Doflamingo's crew as 'Corazon.' During one such mission, while secretly hoping to find out more information on his estranged brother's whereabouts, he enters a black market organization by the name of the Blackburn Syndicate...but along the way he stumbles into something far more precious than any one piece of information could be.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Down The Rabbit Hole

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS if you haven't read past Chapter 767 of the One Piece manga or watched past episode 706 of the One Piece anime.  
> This story is cross-posted on tumblr, fanfiction.net and DeviantArt

Aylin didn't see why she had to get stuck with the task of showing the new guy around; she had books to tend to, not to mention the job of contacting one of their clients about the shipment that was now late...it was probably going to be a long night, she surmised. Not that she had anything else to do. Still, most of her superiors were away on business at the moment and those who remained had ever so graciously delegated the duty of dealing with the newbie to her.

And he was late.

She sighed, arms crossed as she leaned against the cool brick building by the docks. Their trade masqueraded as a shoe factory on Agora Island; she imagined the unsuspecting town of Penndel wouldn't take kindly to the knowledge that deep beneath the immense, otherwise uninteresting structure sat a vast and complex underground operation known as the Blackburn Syndicate.

It was one of the most infamous and successful black market organizations of its time. Due to the protection of the island offered by the great pirate Whitebeard, the marines didn't dare to approach it for investigation. The Syndicate's leader had also been very clever to evade apprehension throughout the years. Even to this day, their identity remained a mystery.

The redhead found herself wondering if perhaps the new guy had gotten lost. Could it be that he'd changed his mind and wasn't coming? She wouldn't blame him for that; her line of work could be rough and certainly was not for everyone. It was a risky, often times demanding business, and with decidedly unpleasant company at that.

Five more minutes passed. She was about to give up and go back inside when she noticed a particularly tall figure divert from the main flow of people on the busy streets in the distance, heading down the cobblestone walkway in her direction.

'That must be the guy,' she thought to herself as she watched him saunter coolly down the path, casually smoking a cigarette...until he somehow lost his footing and unceremoniously fell flat on his back. Aylin groaned inwardly, 'Don't let this be the guy...'

She looked on while the tall man recovered from his fumble. He stood up, taking a moment to pat clouds of dust from his jeans and smooth out his button-down shirt before ambling the rest of the way over to her. Aylin noted that he'd lost his cigarette during the mishap. Drawing closer to where she was waiting, he met her eyes and offered her a sheepish grin.

"Ah... Hi, I'm Rocinante...sorry I'm late!" He held out a relatively massive hand while leaning over toward the shorter woman. His stature was evidently the cause of many of his problems.

Aylin gave him a fairly unimpressed look in return and did not acknowledge his extended hand. Instead, she pushed herself off the side of the building and wordlessly began to head around the corner toward an entrance that she and the other associates used, as not to draw too much attention to their comings and goings. She was ten strides toward the other end of the building when she realized that she hadn't heard footsteps following after her.

Turning back toward him, Aylin raised one eyebrow. "You coming or not?"

Rocinante dropped his hand, jutting his lower lip out slightly. "Uhh...you're not even going to tell me your name?" He paused to light up a new cigarette, taking a long drag on it before following after her. He nearly stumbled once or twice, though it only took him a few strides to catch up. "Miss...?"

Aylin held back an irritated sigh. "You really are a rookie, aren't you?" She muttered. "No concept of discretion..." Rolling her eyes, she continued to lead him toward the back door. Once there, she paused only momentarily to unlock it and then ushered him inside once it was open. It wasn't until the door was shut and locked behind them that she finally spoke. "Aylin. That's my name."

"Aylin," he repeated to himself. "That's lovely!" He grinned at her and then turned his gaze around the warehouse, mentally taking stock of just how big the place was. He noted the low-hanging tiled ceilings and took extra care to avoid banging his head.

They were standing inside a large room of wall-to-wall shelving, presumably filled with boxes of shoes. Aylin didn't linger, walking briskly toward another door in a darkened corner which was hidden behind a row of shelves that had been pushed closer to the wall.

She seemed to ignore his comment altogether as she simply said, "Come on, keep moving."

The tall blond hunched over, following after her as she led him to what he gathered was some sort of secret entrance to where they undoubtedly kept 'the good stuff.' "So you're giving me the grand tour, eh? I'm sure they sent you because you're the nicest, Miss Aylin."

She snorted at that remark. "Something like that," she replied dryly.

Rocinante wasn't exactly trying to weasel his way into her good graces...okay, so maybe he was. He needed these people to like him, after all. He needed to show her that he wasn't just going to be a nuisance, that he knew a thing or two about firearms. The Blackburn Syndicate commonly dealt with merchandise such as devil fruits, illegal drugs, counterfeit goods and even human trafficking, although they appeared to be most notorious for their weapons and arms. In order to advance quickly within the organization, Rocinante knew that he needed to prove himself both knowledgeable and competent...provided his inherent clumsiness didn't get in the way first.

"Look, don't feel like you have to babysit me," he said, nearly stumbling in the darkness once more. "I appreciate your help, since I am new here and all. I'll...try not to knock over anything expensive." He chuckled and gave her a thumbs-up gesture, hoping to earn a smile from her.

Unfortunately, all it got him was about two seconds of her attention and a blank stare before she turned back to the door, unlocking that one as well with another key from the ring full of similar-looking ones.

After six years in the business, Aylin had earned herself a fair amount of trust from the higher-ups, and along with being granted those keys came the freedom to enter and exit the base of operations as she pleased...though she highly suspected that it was not so much the fact they trusted her as it was the fact that they knew she would never betray them.

She led Rocinante down the dimly lit stairwell and then through a couple of short hallways before arriving at a larger, heavier door. Stopping there, she unlocked that door using three different keys. Finally the last bolt clicked and the door swung open.

"After you," Aylin said as she gestured him forward.

Rocinante sighed at the large amount of awkward silence that had passed between them, although truthfully it was unsurprising. First impressions didn't always go over very well for him, but he was determined to get the redhead to warm up to him.

He ducked through the rather small doorway into yet another dimly lit room. Luckily this one had higher ceilings, although the top of his head still brushed the panels above. He bumped one of them as he walked and sent it off-kilter. The noise started him and caused him to duck immediately. Unfortunately, that movement sent him off-balance and he suddenly found himself waving his arms wildly as he attempted to regain his equilibrium. Failing that, he grappled for the nearest object, which happened to be a large wooden table, but it was too late; he went down like a tree falling in a forest, taking the piece of furniture along with him. Documents went scattering into the air when the table flipped. Papers covered in pictures and words fluttered all around him, landing nearby as he lay in a defeated heap on the floor.

Aylin had halted upon hearing the cacophony behind her, turning just in time to see the storm of paperwork fly into the air. She frowned, once again cursing the fact that he had been put under her charge for the day and wondering whose idea it had been to hire this guy.

Rocinante felt his back crack when he sat up and he groaned slightly. "No, no, I'm fine, really. Don't worry about me..." His face began to burn when he heard a chortle from within the room. It was only then that he noticed there were several other people in the vicinity, and he'd just made himself look like a complete fool! He stood up slowly, trying to maintain whatever ounce of dignity he had left.

"This is the new kid Blackburn hired? I'll give him about three days," scoffed a burly man with tattoos covering his bald head.

"Three days? That's generous! Three hours and I'll be amazed!" Another man jeered, smirking down at the new face as he puffed on a cigar.

"Haha! What a jackass," a third chimed in.

Aylin gave the three of them a withering glare. "Save the dumbass commentary for after you've finished unloading the shipment...which, judging by the all these boxes piled up here, you haven't done yet." She didn't wait for them to make anymore comments, instead turning her attention back to the new guy, who had finally managed to right himself and rise to his full height...which served to shut the shorter men up for the moment as he actually towered over them. She shook her head. "Come on, I need to show you where you'll be working..."

Rocinante rubbed the back of his head, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment. His elbow accidentally bumped against the ceiling, loosening another one of the panels and he grappled to catch it, to no avail. It fell and broke in half.

"Um...sorry...I can, uh...PAY FOR THAT!" Snickers and hushed jeers followed the unwieldy man as he followed Aylin. "It was nice meeting you all! ...Kinda," Rocinante called over his shoulder before he disappeared into another room.

Aylin couldn't help but feel a twinge of empathy for the newcomer, even if she was convinced that he was more than likely going to turn out just the same as all the others.

"Nevermind them. Everyone here is an asshole," she stated matter-of-factly. "You just have to give it right back to them." The room she led him into next was a much larger one. It boasted very tall ceilings to accommodate the rows upon rows of boxes sitting on palettes stacked high. Several workers were carefully maneuvering pallet jacks full of merchandise to and from the loading dock outside.

"Anyway, I don't know what you expected to be doing, but all the new blood start here. It's a lot of tedious grunt-work, but if you do well and don't slack off, you'll find other opportunities popping up." She glanced up at him, noting that as large as he was, he had a youthful face. "You look like a strong kid, so I think you'll be a big help to these guys unloading all the merch."

Rocinante almost snorted in amusement; just how young did she think he was? Either way, it didn't matter. He resolved to let them think whatever they wanted about him. He was going to fit in one way or another. He always did. It was something he was good at, which was why he got so many of these jobs. He was actually relieved to see that most of the people within the organization seemed to be the terrible sort, as it would be that much easier to turn them in once he'd gotten enough information to bring the Blackburn Syndicate down.

After that, he'd be one step closer to being able to pursue his real, ultimate goal: putting a stop to his older brother's madness. They'd been separated for most of their lives, though Rocinante had never forgotten the events that had led him to this point. He'd scoured the news for any small amount of information regarding his brother, keeping whatever clippings and pictures he found in a folder. He vowed to find a way back to Doflamingo one day, and hopefully without having to explain his long absence. There had to be some way...he just hadn't thought of it yet.

Breaking from his reverie, he gave his superior a smile. "Thanks a lot, Miss Aylin. I gotta say, I'm pretty relieved that I can actually stand up in here!" He laughed awkwardly as he took a look around the room. "I don't mind grunt work, or repetitive work. I know I'm on the last rung of the ladder right now and I'll be more than happy to work my way up." His face split into a grin. "I just hope you all won't dock my pay too harshly for my clumsiness."

He often liked to poke fun at himself during these assignments. He found that doing so made him seem less intimidating despite his stature.

Aylin raised one eyebrow in slight amusement. "I'd say a dock in pay would be the last thing you need to worry about here..." She couldn't help but wonder if he really understood what he was getting himself into. Regardless, it was not her concern. People in this business came and went all the time. The guys in the other room were probably right; this one surely wouldn't last too long.

Turning, she raised a hand to flag down one of the workers in the room. "Hey, Maynard! Got a new one for you."

From across the room, the older, dark-haired man gave a nod in return. "Send him over! Got lots of shit to do today."

"Maynard will take care of you from here," Aylin said as she glanced up at Rocinante. It could have been his imagination, but she appeared rather relieved for the opportunity to pawn him off onto somebody else. She continued, "He can be difficult, but as long as you show him you won't take his bullshit, then he'll learn to respect you." She started to walk away, but hesitated and turned back. In a lower voice, she added, "Just a piece of advice... If you don't stand up for yourself here, then you'll be eaten alive real quick." She nodded a short goodbye before turning on her heel and heading back the way she'd come.

Rocinante watched her leave, letting her last message soak in. He knew that already, of course. These people were always like this; ruthless, selfish cretins who were only in it for the money and the cheap thrills, most of them prone to the drink as their only outlet...along with frequent visits to the red light district. But Aylin...she didn't seem like the typical sort of person who would work for this kind of organization. Call it a gut feeling, but Rocinante sensed that there was more to her than just her rough outer demeanor. Or perhaps that was simply wishful thinking on his part. He supposed that only time would tell.

He made his way over to the man Aylin had identified as Maynard, plastering a cheery smile on his face as if he couldn't imagine anything better than smuggling drugs and weapons that would undoubtedly ruin peoples' lives.

"Maynard, I'm Rocinante. It's a pleasure to meet you. Just show me what I need to do!"

The man uttered a grunt in return, staring the blond up and down in a scrutinizing manner. By the look on his face, Rocinante was able to determine that he clearly was not the most pleasant sort of person to be around.

Maynard gestured toward an idle pallet jack. "You know how to use one of those things?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then get to it. Lots of stuff to unload today. Just don't screw anything up. Whatever you break is gonna come out of your pay!"

Rocinante gave him a short nod before sauntering over to the contraption, taking note of the large open bay to the left that allowed for a good view of the cargo ship that the other workers were unloading from. He supposed he would simply fall in line and do whatever they were doing.

He supposed there would be plenty of opportunities to delve deeper into this operation during his downtime. Gaining inside intelligence on the one called Blackburn, the Syndicate's leader, was especially vital to the success of his mission. Once an organization's leader fell, the rest of them were much easier to pick off one by one...and, hopefully, after their time in prison was served they could all be set on a path toward moral high ground.

That was what Rocinante wished for everyone; a safe, happy home. Something to call their own, something to protect. A family. Anything to keep people off the streets and out of the gutters. And if he had to use his connections with the marines as a facilitator of that goal, well, then it was worth it. That said, Rocinante wasn’t sure if he would remain among them forever. Despite his ties to the marines and his debt to the man who had rescued him long ago, he had never really felt like he was one hundred percent one of them, nor could he say that he'd been entirely dedicated to their causes. There was undoubtedly a large amount of corruption among their ranks, and Rocinante often found himself following his own set of ideals.

It was a battle between those deemed lawful and those branded criminals; be it pirate or mercenary, the government and those sworn to protect it saw them all through the same dark lens. These two worlds were constantly at war, and both held their own downsides. It was hard to tell where one ended and one began.

Sighing, he bent to pick up the handle of the pallet jack and nearly tripped over his own feet as he steered it toward the bay, not missing the way that Maynard watched him with critical eyes.

Time to go down the rabbit hole.


	2. The Quiet Game

"Missing cargo?" Aylin repeated as she stood before the esteemed Inner Circle of the Blackburn Syndicate, watching each member carefully as they fixed their gaze upon her.

"Yes. A ship full of valuable artillery has been intercepted by the marines," a rugged-looking woman by the name of Scarlet explained. "While our merchants managed to sink the marine ship, their own was badly damaged and no longer capable of completing the journey. Right now, they've docked at an island that they say is mostly deserted, but it's only a matter of time until the marines send another fleet."

"Let me guess. You want me to go and get it?" Aylin's words sounded a bit more flat than she had intended.

Scarlet leaned over the table, her palms flat against the surface. "This isn't just any cargo. This particular ship was en route to the Port of Soba. I don't think I need to explain what would happen if someone needed to tell Don Fettuccine Alfredo that he wasn't going to get his shipment..."

Aylin sighed deeply upon hearing those words. Of course she knew what would happen, and also knew that their organization couldn't afford the loss of the Alfredo Family's business. She'd never met Don Fettuccine and didn't know anyone who actually had, but she knew that he was a very important figure within the black market. Nearly everyone knew his name.

"Alright, say no more. I'll take care of it. I assume you've got a ship ready to go?"

"That's right," replied a man in a dark suit beside Scarlet. "Along with a handful of mercenaries to assist in bringing the cargo in. I trust we can depend on your skills and swift attention to the matter." His eyes had narrowed ever so slightly as he spoke those words, and she'd understood the underlying meaning in them.

She nodded, prepared to take her leave. "Of course...is that all, then?"

"Just one more thing," Scarlet piped up. "Take Rocinante along as well."

"Ro-see...what?" Aylin puzzled over the request for a moment, trying to put a face to that name.

"Yes, he's served us well these past few months. This could be a suitable test to find out if he's truly worthy of remaining among us. He may be clumsy, but I'm told he's rather skilled despite that flaw."

'Oh,' she thought to herself. 'That guy.' She'd nearly forgotten about him, having had no contact with him since the day she'd introduced him to Maynard.

Aylin raised one eyebrow. "And if he's not?"

The man in black gave her a rather unsettling grin. "That's what the mercenaries are for, my dear Red Fox."

She nodded in understanding. "I see. How soon am I leaving?"

"Early this afternoon," Scarlet replied briskly. "The sooner the better. I'll expect a full report the moment you return. Dismissed!"

Aylin nodded once more before turning on her heel and taking long strides to exit the meeting room. The bookkeeping would have to wait another day, it seemed...which was a shame, given how much of it still required her attention. She imagined there would be three more stacks of paperwork on her desk by the time she returned to it. There wasn't much she could do about it, though. Aylin held the titles of Negotiator and Escort, which meant that she was often sent away on business to carry out various tasks. When she wasn't busy with assignments, she kept busy as a Bookkeeper. Having multiple jobs within the Syndicate was quite common and ensured maximum productivity, or so Scarlet had insisted.

Aylin made her way back toward her office, navigating the maze of hallways and stairwells. The Inner Circle had their own quarters deep in the recesses of the underground command center, though she had rarely set foot in those areas. They would typically occupy one of the uninhabited office buildings on one of the upper floors of the shoe factory whenever they needed to brief her on a new assignment.

That was what the Inner Circle did. They were a group of people who were responsible for hiring new associates and promoting those already within the Syndicate, as well as dealing with any problems within the organization. In general, not much was known about them, though it was widely acknowledged that they were Blackburn's most trusted employees and probably the only people who had ever actually seen their leader's face. Aylin herself had learned almost nothing about the group, even after six years of service.

Heading down the last corridor on the west side of the building, she entered the area where the rest of the Bookkeepers resided. Most of them, like her, doubled up on roles and depending on the day, the main room would be missing half its workers. A few of them, notably the eldest members of the Syndicate who were no longer physically competent, remained in their offices full-time.

She gave Priscilla a nod as the woman eyed her from a large mahogany desk at the center of the main room.

"I'll be going off on an assignment later today," Aylin said as she walked by. "I'm leaving my office unlocked, so just stack some books on my desk for me."

The elder women hummed in acknowledgement, though said nothing in response. Aylin didn't spare her a second glance. She headed right for her office and shut herself inside, hoping to get some more work done in the short amount of hours she had to spare before leaving.

oOo

Aylin zipped up the duffle bag she had partially filled with just enough to get her through the next few days. A change of clothes, extra throwing knives, a medical kit with extra bandaging and some non-perishable food items were among the few things she considered necessities. The Inner Circle tended not to give much notice regarding upcoming missions, and Aylin had learned long ago that it was best to always be prepared for a journey at any given moment.

Shortly afterward, she made her way down to the shipyard where Rocinante apparently worked these days. She still didn't understand why they'd chosen her to go rescue the cargo. Surely Maynard would have been just as suitable, although her people skills were decidedly better than his.

The blond man wasn't difficult to spot, being the tallest human around. She watched him while he lugged a stack of very large crates up the ramp of a ship as she made her way over. It looked as though she'd been wrong about him. He'd lasted far longer than any of them had first thought he would.

Aylin followed after him, waiting until he'd set the crates down before she cleared her throat. "Hey, kid. Want to go on a trip?"

Rocinante stood up to his full height at the sound of the woman's voice, wiping the sweat from his brow after handling the heavy load. It was the last one of that particular stack and he put his left hand against his back, bending backwards slightly in a stretch. There was a satisfying crack until he lost his balance and fell over onto an empty pallet, breaking the boards in half.

"GAH!"

He flailed with his legs in the air, scrambling to get up and address his visitor properly. He finally stood, embarrassed as he looked down and recognized the woman that he'd met when he first joined the Syndicate three months ago. He'd never forget that bright blue scarf she had carefully fastened about her neck, nor that flaming red hair.

"Oh, hi! Miss...Miss..." His thoughts raced, trying to remember her name. It'd been so many moons since he first heard it. A light bulb seemed to go off and he yelled out, "MISS LIN!!!"

Her brow wrinkled momentarily and he was dismayed, knowing this must have meant he got her name wrong and he scrambled for additional words. "I'm so sorry, that's...that's not your name, is it!? I'm so much better with faces than names...and a face like yours, I'd never forget." He pasted on what he hoped was a charming smile.

"It's Aylin," she corrected him, though she wasn't terribly offended. After all it wasn't as if she'd remembered his name without prompting, either. "Anyway, seems you're moving up in the world. I've got to retrieve a wayward shipment, and you've been requested to come along with me. Guess someone up there likes you."

"Somebody up there, huh? You couldn't possibly mean the head honcho, could you?" Rocinante laughed again and stopped abruptly when he realized that Aylin wasn't amused. He leaned down closer to her height, lowering his voice. "So...wayward cargo meaning this needs to be kept 'hush hush,' right? No worries, I'm great at keeping secrets. So how should we dress, casual?" He winked at her, determined to make her crack that stoic face she had going on.

This could be his chance, he realized. Trusted with a mission like this...direct contact with cargo before it reached the port. That sounded important.

' _She_ must be important,' he thought. 'She must know things that the others don't.' He was determined to break through that hard 'all business' crust and get to know her. It was just a matter of time.

He quickly agreed and packed up a few things. Not that he owned much in the first place; the amount of time he spent traveling didn't allow for personal affectations, save for some basic necessities and the file he kept on his brother. There was also a small picture he kept on his person. A family portrait that had been taken prior to the Donquixote family leaving Mariejois; before their lives had been thrown into turmoil and all the death and the madness had begun.

As soon as he returned with his duffel bag, Aylin led him to the docks on the other side of town where they were to depart. They boarded the ship with four mercenaries that had been procured by the organization and before long, they had set sail toward the desert island. The ship looked so rickety and so many boards creaked that Rocinante truly wondered whether it was seaworthy or not. The poor excuse for a sleeping quarters below deck contained several hammocks, none of which could accommodate his unwieldy frame comfortably.

The mercenaries all looked as if they hadn't bathed in several weeks and the smell was appalling, like pickles and tar. Rocinante lit up a cigarette and took a long drag, closing his eyes and relishing in the nicotine as he exhaled curls of smoke. He was finally able to do so freely here without the fear of gunpowder going off at any moment. On a daily basis he found himself surrounded by dangerous merchandise that was largely composed of explosives. As a result, he took frequent smoke breaks that annoyed Maynard, but he was always able to get his work done on time so he never heard the older man complain too much about it.

Aylin was cold and distant, all business even over dinner in the galley, which mostly consisted of halfway stale bread and chunks of cheese with some kind of thick broth on the side. Rocinante dared not ask what was in it.

The journey was supposed to take at least a week, but trouble was brewing on the third day. The sky darkened by afternoon and thunder crashed within thick clouds, while lightning flashed directly ahead of the path they were taking.

Aylin chewed on her lip while she studied the churning sea outside the nearest porthole. "Looks like we're going to be delayed a little while," she muttered to herself before glancing at one of the mercenaries still sitting at the table. "Go make sure the sails are tied down."

He nodded mutely, the chair scraping against the wood floor as he hurried to do as she said. The day before, he'd learned that the pouch strapped to her leg contained several sharp knives and was not there for show. After a brush with death, he'd decided it wasn't the smartest idea to get on the nerves of one of Blackburn's top employees.

Meanwhile, Aylin had returned to her thoughts. The storm threw a wrench in her plans...they'd been making such good time that she'd been hoping to rescue the stranded cargo and swing by a port on the way back with a day to spare. She absently toyed with the scarf around her neck, hearing the distant shouting of the mercenaries as they worked on the deck above. Her eyes roamed the room, finally settling on the large form still sitting at the table.

She honestly didn't know what to make of Rocinante yet. Even after three days of conversing with him as little as humanly possible, scowling at his attempts to joke with her and generally giving him the cold shoulder anytime he attempted to interact with her, he seemed completely undeterred. Most people gave up by then, but her aloof attitude didn't seem to bother him. Furthermore, he was so unlike any of the other people that came and went in this business that she had to wonder what exactly he was doing there. Was he who he said he was? He'd not yet given them a reason to distrust him, but she'd seen clever traitors attempt to infiltrate the black market before. Some of them were practiced liars and others had been discovered and shot immediately. If Rocinante were one of these infiltrators, he'd certainly fall into the former category...

One thing was for certain; if he turned out to be a spy of some sort, and something happened on her watch, then Blackburn would absolutely take it out on her. Aylin was determined to keep a very close eye on him for the duration of their voyage.

Within the next half hour, dark waves started to crash against the ship and the sea began to roil. Rocinante feared that the boat wasn't sturdy enough to withstand the storm. It was a huge squall and went on for miles, as if it had swallowed up every inch of blue in the sky.

Icy sheets of rain began to hit the deck while the mercenaries who were doing double-duty as sailors finished tying up the sails. The navigator among them yelled over the howling wind for everyone to get below deck, and they all prepared to ride out the storm.

Rocinante searched for the familiar head of red hair. He thought she must already have gone inside, but she didn't answer when he called out to her and he became frantic, thinking she may have been unwittingly tossed overboard. He ran down the stairs below deck, bumping his head and legs on everything as he looked for her. He searched every available room, becoming more and more worried by the minute. Finally he went to the cargo hold, lighting the lantern with the matches he'd used for his cigarettes, though not before burning his fingers multiple times as the rocking ship worked against him. He stumbled his way into the room, his long legs casting spider-like shadows on the walls.

He finally saw a flash of red and blue as he swung his lantern. "...Lin?"

She was there in the corner, behind a couple of stacked boxes of rations. She appeared not to have heard him, so he approached her carefully, noting as he grew closer the way she held her shoulders and how stiff her posture appeared.

Rocinante's eyes widened slightly. "Hey...!"

She started as he rushed to her side, surprised by his presence. He knelt down beside her and tried to set the lantern carefully on the floor. Suddenly a large clap of thunder sounded. At the same time, the boat tilted sharply to one side and Aylin's eyes grew wide with surprise as she found herself crashing into the taller man.

Quickly righting herself, Aylin braced an icy hand against him as she pushed herself back. If it were at all possible for her to look any paler than usual, she certainly did now.

"What are you doing down here?" She demanded, her sharp tone of voice overcompensating for the obvious lack of composure that her body language suggested.

"Lin, are you alright? I was looking for you...for...for a minute there, I thought you might've gone overboard..." He stopped short, his brow wrinkling with concern. Something wasn't right. She looked completely shaken up, even as she did her best to hide it from him. She nearly jumped a foot at the next loud clap of thunder.

The storm must be directly above the ship now, he surmised. He patted her hand in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

"Me? Did something go wrong up there?" Aylin frowned, not entirely comfortable showing such weakness in front of someone of a lesser rank, particularly when she had been increasingly suspicious of where that someone's loyalties lay. But the ship lurched once more at that moment and before she could think about it, both of her hands shot out to grapple onto his arms for balance, her eyes becoming momentarily frantic.

Rocinante suddenly found himself resisting the urge to pull her closer into his arms; it seemed like the right thing to do since she was obviously terrified and valiantly trying to hide it, but she was his superior officer and so he held back.

"Hey..." He always tried to lighten the mood no matter what the circumstances, so he did the only thing he knew how to do. "Want to see a magic trick?"

Aylin gave him a withering glare and he almost faltered, but when thunder once again cracked loudly overhead he snapped his fingers and said, "Silent."

The look on her face was priceless. She was so utterly baffled, glancing about in confusion as the ship still continued to rock against the wind and the waves. Even while tipping side to side violently at times, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing now.

"Pretty cool, right?"

It didn't take her long to figure it out. "You're a fruit user," she said in a tone that sounded almost accusatory. He'd never mentioned it before, though she supposed he never had any reason to.

"Yes, I am."

"What did you just do...? I can't hear anything."

"I'm a soundless man who ate the Nagi Nagi fruit," he explained. "I just created a bubble around us so that the only thing you can hear is what's inside of it! No more thunder, I'll keep it up until it's over, I promise." He put one hand on her shoulder again, kindness radiating from his eyes.

Still surprised, Aylin pursed her lips and for the next few moments she said nothing. He sat with her in silence as the ship continued to rock among the violent waves, though she felt a swell of relief upon not having to listen to the rumbles and claps from above. She sat back on the crate, resting her elbows on her knees.

"You know, I don't get you," she finally said after a long pause. "You are either too naive to know what you've gotten yourself into, or you're lying about something." Her eyes flickered up to bore into his, trying to gauge his reaction. "Really...what's someone like you doing here?"

Rocinante sighed. He got this reaction almost everywhere he went, to the point where he almost considered adopting a 'tough guy' gimmick. But that just wasn't him. In order to have that kind of persona, he supposed he'd never be able to open his mouth.

Rocinante let his hand slide off of Aylin's shoulder. "Is it really so hard to believe that there are nice people in this world? Not everyone is carrying a knife to stab you in the back with the first chance they get." He looked back into her eyes, not one trace of dishonesty in his own. "I have my reasons for being in this business. Just like I'm sure you have your reasons for being afraid of thunder." He raised an eyebrow at her in a challenge.

Aylin's lips pulled into a frown at the mention of her phobia, though it wasn't enough to derail her completely. He had a point...everyone had different reasons for the way they lived their lives. Herself included. Reasons for being afraid of thunder, however...

Suddenly she felt a little ridiculous. One corner of her lips pulled slightly upward. "No...actually, I've just always hated it."

He grinned at her in response, noting that she let down some of that roughness for the first time.

"See, now that wasn't so hard, was it? For a minute there I thought there might be some dramatic tale behind it. You're safe with me for now, this wall's not coming down until I say so." He patted the invisible barrier. "But I have to ask you a favor. Why don't we keep my devil fruit a secret just between the two of us, eh?"

"I don't see the harm in that," she replied after a moment. So long as he didn't have anything up his sleeve, anyway...she could see where a power like his could come in handy, especially within an organization like the Syndicate. Though having something on him would give her the advantage if anything should happen to go sour, so she was willing to keep his secret for now. "Anyway...I appreciate you not making a joke of it. It's the least I can do in return."

"Why would I make a joke about something you fear? Especially when I was so worried..." He cleared his throat and looked away, flushing slightly. It was in his nature to care for others and he always found himself getting attached to people, even when he shouldn't. Hell, especially when he shouldn't. He'd lost a dear friend on his last assignment. It was something he tried not to ever think about, but the pain was still there, buried somewhere deep. "Why do you always think the worst of people?"

It seemed to her a bizarre question, and perhaps her expression reflected that, because she noticed his head tilt in a quizzical manner. "Why...? Look around you, Rocinante. Everyone involved in this organization is the scourge of society, I have no illusions about it. I've been around long enough to see for myself. In this business, turnover is like a nonstop revolving door. Stick around a while and you'll learn not to bother with making friends."

"Well maybe I don't believe that, Lin. Maybe I believe in trying to see the good in people," he said honestly. In fact, there was only one person that he'd never been able to see that in, and it wasn't for lack of trying. He shook his head, looking away as the boat continued to bob about wildly. "Are you telling me you don't have any friends? No one you care about? That...sounds terrible, especially since you think everyone around you is the 'scourge of society.' That's no way to live, Lin."

"It's Aylin," she corrected him, though she wasn't sure why she bothered at this point. "Listen, I'm not here to make friends. You can think whatever you want about it, I don't care. But if that's what you think you're doing here, then boy you are in the wrong line of work. You understand this isn't a game? If you're not here because you have absolutely no shred of decency, then you're here because you're desperate."

His brow wrinkled as he stared down at her thoughtfully, lifting a hand to scratch at his cheek. "That's an interesting perspective, but I'm afraid I don't find the world as black and white as all that. I'm going to prove you wrong, Lin. Just watch."

A silence stretched out between them for a time and Rocinante thought Aylin might have fallen asleep. Or maybe she was stewing in anger. It was so quiet in the little bubble he'd made that he started to drift off himself.

All of a sudden another wave nearly knocked the boat over, causing him to lose his balance. He promptly toppled over onto Aylin, feet straight up in the air, while she was immediately sent sprawling off the crate before she'd had time to react to the collision.

"Hey!" She protested as they became a tangled mess of flailing limbs.

Aylin's eyes swept over their surroundings, quickly taking stock of the situation. Crates had been soundlessly tossed about amidst the chaos and some of their items had spilled and scattered across the floor.

She pushed herself up to her elbows, still pinned to the floor under Rocinante's considerable weight. "Something tells me you don't get invited to many parties," she commented dryly.

Rocinante snorted. "A pity, since this makes such a great parlor trick! I can talk so much shit behind people's backs without them ever knowing. I'm a first rate gossip and--" He cut himself off immediately, almost having said something about being a spy. He knew she'd think of that reason herself soon enough. She was a shrewd woman, from what he'd gathered.

He lifted himself off of Aylin and offered her a hand. "Sorry about that...so...since we're stuck down here for awhile, why don't you tell me your life story? Okay, just the past year... How you got tangled up with the organization...? Okay, okay...how about where you got that beautiful face from?"

Rocinante gave her what he hoped was a suave grin. He'd definitely noticed that she wasn't hideous. In fact, he even found her quite beautiful. He really wasn't a huge flirt, but he had to try every crack before he'd find a board that would budge, didn't he? After all, his mission required him to get closer to her. He needed information that she could undoubtedly provide for him. If only she would make it a little easier to befriend her... Still, Rocinante was not a man who gave up easily.

Though judging by the unimpressed look on her face, Aylin was clearly not one to fall for such a tactic. She stood and brushed herself off, small clouds of dust billowing up from her clothing.

"Nice try," she replied flatly. "But that's none of your business. Maybe try flirting with women as young and naive as you are, and that line might actually work."

He blinked. "Just how young do you think I am, Lin? I kind of thought maybe we were around the same age, you're what...twenty-six? Maybe?" He gave her a quizzical look. "I didn't think you were that kind of girl, but honestly I'm at a loss here. Throw me a bone, won't you? I just want to get to know you better."

She sighed, thinking that he must be some kind of idiot. But rather than waste more time in a futile attempt to explain once more why forging friendships within the Syndicate was pointless, she said, "Let's play the quiet game instead."

Rocinante perked up. "I have to warn you, I'm kind of the champion of the quiet game, in case you didn't notice." He clapped his hand to his chest and simply said, "Calm!" Suddenly nothing he did or said made any kind of noise, even as he began to dance about, trying to get her to crack a smile. He looked like some kind of mime without the makeup, striped clothing and goofy hat.

Aylin rolled her eyes. 'How can Maynard stand this kid?' She found herself wondering. He surely must be an excellent worker, considering he'd survived for this long with the crankiest man in the business as his superior. Hell, she'd seen Maynard off people for much less than annoying behavior. The man seemed to have it out for anyone expressing any shred of happiness whatsoever.

She did her best to distract herself from the giant young man in front of her, who in turn did his best to keep her focus. At the very least, she was thankful for the silence despite everything. Eventually, after what seemed like approximately one eternity, the crashing waves subsided and she suspected the storm had ended.

Aylin stood, drawing Rocinante's attention. He'd given up trying to entertain her a little while ago and had finally been sitting in silence.

"Looks like it's over now," she said. "I've got to get things back under control." There was no doubt in her mind that the mercenaries upstairs were up to no good. Blackburn was paying them for their services, but that didn't mean they wouldn't stab her in the back the second the opportunity arose. She didn't trust them as far as she could throw them.

Rocinante sighed at the fact that he'd failed to crack a smile from Aylin, but he wasn't through. They'd be on this mission together for another week and a half. Maybe he'd get through to her before it was over with and maybe he wouldn't, but he still had plenty of time for that later. Somehow, he was determined to crack that hard shell of hers...

He followed her up topside, where everything was soaked, though the ship looked no worse for wear. He surmised he wouldn't even have noticed any kind of damage to the ship anyway, since it was already such a piece of crap. Nightfall would be coming soon and there was something he still had to do.

"You mind if I take watch tonight, Lin? I promise I'll be quiet." He grinned cheekily.

"I suppose not," she replied after a moment of consideration. She'd taken it upon herself to stand watch the last couple of nights, and although she hadn't complained at all, she figured she could use the break. She at least trusted Rocinante more than she trusted any of the mercenaries.

"Great! Sweet dreams then, I'll see you tomorrow morning." Rocinante waved over his shoulder as he went up to what passed for a crow's nest on this floating piece of wood. Darkness fell over the now calm sea and the stars came out one by one.

Rocinante waited until he was certain everyone had fallen asleep, then he snuck down to mast where the ship's den den mushi was kept. He was a week overdue for his next report, but his superior officer would just have to deal with it. In order to give his report on time, he'd have blown his cover. It was already hard enough to get away from the docks, the warehouse, and the scrutinizing eye of that crabby old bastard, Maynard.

He picked up the receiving end, dialing the familiar number. "Hello, Bagels? It's me."

"Muffins!" The older man's voice on the other end may have sounded a tad relieved. "I've been waiting for your report." He was a little difficult to hear amidst a cacophony of sorts in the background. "How is everything goi--Bukiyousuke, I told you to turn that racket down! I can't hear myself think!" Next came the obvious sound of a door slamming, and things became a bit quieter. Sengoku sighed. "My apologies, my son is home for the holiday. How is the mission going?"

"Slowly," Rocinanate said after a short pause. "Ahh, little Buki-kun is growing up, eh? How's he doing? Were you guys planning on having any more? AHHH look at me blabbing away! Right, the mission...well, I'm finally working my way into the higher ranks of the organization, hoping I'll eventually get to meet Blackburn. I'm paired up on a mission with one of their higher ranking agents, Lin. We're off to Calderry Island to retrieve a load of cargo gone awry, it seems..."

"Ah, yes. From the ship that sunk one of our fleets, I presume. Be careful...if it's the one I think it is, then it was very well-disguised as a merchant ship, but turned out to have all the makings of a warship. The report I received on the incident included a request for backup as well, although I imagine Blackburn probably is already aware. In that case, I--"

"Dear, are you going to be on the Den Den Mushi much longer?" A female voice called out in the background. "Bukiyousuke was looking forward to our family outing together, you know! AHHH BILLY, NO, DON'T EAT THAT! THAT'S MY POLITICAL SCIENCE PAPER, IT'S GOING TO THE PUBLISHER! SENGOKU, WHY IS YOUR GOAT IN THE HOUSE AGAIN?"

Rocinante held back a snicker. "Seems the missus is doing good as well?"

Sengoku's forehead twitch was nearly audible. "I don't know, dear, perhaps you should ask our son. Now if you don't mind, I'm involved in a very important call at the moment. The outing can wait for just a few minutes longer..." He sighed again as the background volume increased once more. "BUKIYOUSUKE. How many times do I need to tell you to turn that noise down?!"

The female voice piped up again in the background, "SENGOKU, you really expect me to believe it's Buki's fault?! You let that goat eat from a silver platter and sleep on SILK PILLOWS! YOU TREAT HIM BETTER THAN ME SOMETIMES! GET OFF THE DEN DEN!"

Rocinante had to cover his mouth and hold his breath to keep from laughing. He'd had the pleasure of meeting Sengoku's wife, Sanga, many times as he was growing up and being recruited into the marines. He found her quite interesting. Sengoku and Sanga were so different that he'd often wondered how they ever got married in the first place.

"Well Bagels, thanks for the warning...I don't know when I'll be able to make my next report."

"Yes, well, here's another," Sengoku said in a low voice so that his wife wouldn't hear. "If you value your sanity...for the love of god, don't ever have kids." He harrumphed, "Or a wife! All they do is complain." His words were callous, but even so, there was an obvious affection to them. "Alright, alright! I'm coming in just a minute! ...My apologies yet again, Rocinante. I must cut this short. I'll be waiting for your next repo--Oh, for crying out loud, Bukiyousuke! Can't you leave that thing at home for once?!" All that could be heard next was his grumbling and a child's whining and then after a moment of garbled noise, the connection was cut.


	3. Tonight Is The Night, We'll Fight Til It's Over

The next few days of the journey proved to be rather uneventful. The sea remained calm and, aside from a scuffle amidst the mercenaries over a well-timed and scathing 'your mom' joke, so did the ship's inhabitants.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity at sea, one of the mercenaries shouted from above deck, "ISLAND!! This has gotta be the one!!"

Aylin leapt up from where she'd been sitting at the table and nearly knocked her chair over as she hurried up to take a look for herself. "Are you sure?"

The mercenary handed her a pair of binoculars, though even without them she could just make out the hulking form of the cargo ship. It was quite poorly half-hidden behind the overgrowth near the island's shore. Peering through the glass, she could confirm that this was indeed the merchant ship that she'd been briefed about.

"Okay. We'll sail in, but be on your guard. I'm sure the marines can't be too far. Be prepared for a fight."

The mercenary smirked. "I'm always prepared for a fight, lady. Why do you think I took this job?"

Rocinante was drinking coffee from the largest mug the ship possessed when he heard the commotion and decided to investigate. He meandered over to Aylin, tripping and nearly falling overboard in the process. The blunder might have proven deadly had Aylin not reacted so quickly and grabbed the seat of his pants, yanking him back onto the deck.

"AGH! HOT, HOT!!" Rivulets of coffee poured down his arm and soiled the front of his shirt.

Recovering from the incident quickly, Rocinante sighed and finally looked up. He pulled his own pair of binoculars from his back pocket and surveyed the area carefully, this time mindful of the railing in front of him. He saw the merchant ship they had mentioned, but as he looked closer, it became apparent that the black market thugs were not alone. In fact, as he continued to scan the coast, he noted the outline of a very familiar vessel on the opposite side of the island.

He would have omitted all that information entirely, had Aylin not been giving him a scrutinizing look when he finally glanced back at her.

"Err...I think there must be a marine ship out there, too," he admitted. "I see a few marines near the merchant ship..." He shrunk back instinctively. His face wasn't well known among the marines, since he always reported directly to Sengoku, but one could never be too careful. None of them knew about his special assignment and the last thing he needed was someone blowing his cover.

"What?" She looked again, carefully scanning the shore. Sure enough, she spotted one marine, followed by another, walking around the perimeter of the ship. "Damn, if they're here, that means they've got to have a warship somewhere..."

Rocinante heard her curse under her breath as she spotted it for herself. As he'd already discovered, she was sharp and perceptive. It wouldn't be easy to continue fooling her. Trying to spare his fellow marines of any harm would be too dangerous. She would surely become suspicious of even the slightest merciful act...he would have to proceed carefully, and hope that those marines were capable of holding their own.

"Lin, how are we going to get close without them seeing us? What's your plan? We haven't really discussed much during our journey..." He leaned against the railing, scratching the back of his head. It wasn't for lack of trying that they hadn't talked much. Rocinante went out of his way to say good morning to Aylin, and attempted bringing up as many topics as he could think of, all the acting extremely cheerful. Sometimes talking to her was like talking to a wall. She would grunt her answers, say 'yeah' or just ignore him all together. Rocinante was a bit dismayed at this, especially after the talk they'd had that stormy night. But now, it seemed that she'd redoubled her efforts in not liking him.

Aylin lowered her binoculars. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "If we've seen them, then they've probably seen us. Luckily nothing about this ship says that we've come for a fight. We'll go around and find another way onto the island. Take them by surprise. It'll mean a longer journey, but it's our best bet since we don't know how many people they have."

One mercenary groaned in dismay. "Damn...I'd rather charge in swinging my fists, myself!"

"Then it's a good thing nobody put you in charge, Roderick," Aylin replied icily. "Sail us into the north side of that island. As for the rest of you, prepare yourselves for a fight."

The other mercenaries grudgingly complied, disappearing downstairs to gather their weapons and strap on their armor. Aylin herself headed for her own quarters to do the same. She'd been expecting it, but it was still a hassle to see that the marines had beaten them to the cargo ship. She just hoped their back-up fleet was far enough away so that she wouldn't need reinforcements herself. She didn't particularly care for Scarlet, but disappointing the woman would most certainly have consequences.

Rocinante followed her to the door of her quarters. "Hey, Lin...do you really think we have a chance against all those marines? A ship like that usually..." He trailed off rather abruptly before he gave away more information than he intended. He'd brought along several weapons of his own choosing that he'd be able to completely silence, including a bazooka, but he didn't like the thought of going up against a ship that size with only the two of them and the four mercenaries.

"I know I'm tall..." He chuckled as this was an understatement, "But perhaps you'd consider me as scout...you know the whole silence thing..." Rocinante moved his hands around awkwardly.

Aylin turned from the door, mouth ajar to shoo him away and brush off his suggestion, but of course he did have a point. He would be an excellent candidate for the job; she'd seen his ability for herself...though she was certainly not going to send him off by himself when she wasn't even sure that she could trust him yet.

She crossed her arms, looking somewhat stern as she met his eyes. "Fine. Then you and I will scout the area together." She stared at him rather critically. "You can fight, can't you?"

Rocinante gave her a look. "Of course I can fight. Do you really think that Blackburn would have agreed to let me join if I was helpless as a newborn pigeon?" He put a hand on his hip and then grinned down at her. "I know I'm clumsy, but trust me, when it counts that all disappears."

Aylin let out a small sigh. "Somehow I doubt that, but...I suppose it doesn't matter what you trip over if you aren't making any sound." Rolling her eyes, she opened the door to her quarters, which was really just a bare room containing the same sort of creaky splintering bed that the others were sleeping on. She grabbed a few things from a chest at the foot of it; a small pack that she fastened around her right thigh and a silver longsword which she slid into the sash at her waist.

Even if he weren't trying to snoop, Rocinante would have easily been able to view everything inside the room at his height, and as she moved to close the chest he could just catch a glimpse of something colorful amidst the dusty weapons.

He raised his eyebrows, feeling curious. "Lin...what's that red thing you've got there? It doesn't look like a bomb, so...just wondering..." He trailed off, wondering if he was going to get an answer at all as he watched her freeze upon his mention of it.

But after a moment, Aylin relaxed her shoulders. "...It's nothing you need to be concerned about. Just some junk," she finally replied as she strode back toward the door where he still stood. "Let's go. If you have weapons, now would be the time to go and grab them."

The tall man shrugged. He should have known that was the sort of response he would get. He turned on his heel toward the sleeping quarters where he'd been keeping his belongings and fetched the bazooka, making sure he'd brought plenty of ammunition. It was rather large in general, but for a man his size it looked like a normal weapon.

Finally, after an extra half hour of sailing, they docked on the north side of the island. This area had a white, sandy beach that gradually blended into longer and longer grass, which eventually led to more dense foliage and trees. There was indigenous wildlife, mostly consisting of birds and lizards, although Rocinante though he might have seen a small monkey or lemur as well. The mercenaries played 'Rock, Paper, Scissors' over who had to stay as guard of the ship while Aylin gave them strict instructions according to the plan she'd come up with.

Nearby, Roderick let out a hiss and a series of curses, having lost the matches to decide who would take on guard duty. He turned and stomped back to the ship, kicking around rocks in his path as his comrades snickered and jeered.

"I hope you remember this is supposed to be an exercise in stealth," Aylin dryly reminded them. "Felix, you'll take the lead. You three know what to do. Meanwhile, Rocinante and I will get closer and see what we're up against. Wait for my signal before doing anything. Got it?"

A series of grumbles reached her ears, and she realized she would have to be content with that.

Aylin gave Rocinante a nod. "We'll get going, then."

Rocinante waited until he was sure the other men were out of hearing range before he grinned down at Aylin and spoke the word that triggered his invisible soundproof wall. He then began shouting at the top of his lungs, but no birds or animals seemed to notice and none of the mercenaries came running to check on him.

"It was just a test." Rocinante grinned sheepishly at Aylin, who did not look amused in the least.

"I know this is a serious mission, Lin, trust me. I overheard some guys down at the warehouse badmouthing the Don. We're already in deep shit for this delay. You can count on me, you know. I just hate it when everything has such a heavy atmosphere. Sorry if I get on your nerves while trying to lighten it."

She did not reply, and they continued on their way. Their footsteps fell completely silently through the sand, grass, and forest as they got closer and closer to the marines and the delayed cargo.

After several miles of nothing but forest around them, light began to shine through the thinning leaves. Suddenly Aylin slowed to a stop, holding up a hand to signal Rocinante to halt as well.

"Look," she said, keeping her voice down out of habit despite the soundproof wall that he'd created around them. A group of marines could be seen through the brush on the sandy beach ahead. It seemed as though they were all gathering around something. "The hell are they doing...?" She couldn't quite make out what it was, but something certainly held their attention.

Rocinante crouched further down and crept forward until they were behind a tree where he was able to stand to his full height and peer through the gaps in the branches. "Looks like they're talking to someone on a den den mushi...we need to get closer..."

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her further down into the tall grass as they exited the wooded area, keeping low so not to be seen. When they were close enough, he removed the silent barrier and they were able to hear a rather frantic voice coming from the snail's mouth.

"...I swear, I will kill them if you don't just LEAVE. We're all as good as dead anyway if this shipment doesn't get to its destination! He told me he has a wife and children...you don't want his blood on your hands, do you?!"

A murmur went up from the crowd of marines, and the man who appeared to have the highest rank judging by the coat he wore glanced over towards the cargo ship.

"C-Captain Macklemore, we can't just stand around here! We have to do something!" One of them shouted with an air of desperation. "He's my best friend! We have to do whatever they want!"

The marine captain turned to his subordinate, his brow furrowed. "It's not that simple and you know that! If we let these guys go...anyone else they kill...THAT will be blood on our hands, too!"

"But Captain, he said--"

"Besides that," Captain Macklemore interrupted, "we know through our intelligence that this ship is filled with weaponry to be delivered to Don Fettuccine Alfredo! Do you have any idea how horribly unsuccessful we've been at putting a stop to his operation?! This could be an important step in taking him down from the outside!"

The voice from the den den mushi spoke once more. "Whatever you decide, make it quick!! We don't have all day. Either you get away from here and let us go...or your man dies!!"

"Please, don't kill him!!" The upset marine fell to his knees before the den den mushi. "PLEASE!!! I'm begging you not to kill him!! He has a family! A wife, a daughter and a son!!"

There was a slight rustle of leaves from nearby, and when Rocinante glanced over, Aylin had turned away from the scene. He wondered if she'd seen something. Just as he was about to ask her what was wrong, she spoke up first.

"Can you lure one of them over here with that power of yours? That one on the outskirts of the group..."

He nodded and crept closer, reactivating the soundless wall and expanding it until it enveloped the man that Aylin had singled out. Since his power was invisible, the marine took no notice until Rocinante grabbed his arm.

"HEY!" The marine shouted in surprise. He began struggling, but no one could hear him as Rocinante dragged him deeper into the tall grass and tossed him at Aylin's feet.

"Who are you?! What do you want with me?!" His eyes widened in fear and he reached for the weapon at his side when the woman quickly disarmed him. "Hey!" The marine yelled again, wondering why none of his comrades noticed his departure. "We have a situation. I don't have time to play with you two..." He was clearly trying to appear confidant and brave, as if undaunted by this impromptu kidnapping, but the shaking of his legs gave his fear away.

Aylin knelt down to his level, one elbow resting on a knee. "I know the feeling." She quickly patted him down in search of any concealed weapons. Turning out all his pockets, she found a pocket knife, which she discarded. Satisfied, she roughly turned him around and tied his hands behind his back.

"Wait! What...what are you going to do with me?!"

"That depends entirely on your friends out there," she remarked as she gave him a shove, turning to glance back at Rocinante. "Wait here until I have their attention. Then fire a shot into the air and follow my lead. We're going to keep them busy while the others get the cargo back."

She didn't wait for a reply, keeping her prisoner moving forward until suddenly the two of them were standing outside of the sound-proof bubble and in full view of every marine.

Eleven guns cocked at once and every one of them was pointed directly at Aylin. But before a single shot could be fired, she'd drawn her sword and pressed the blade against her hostage's throat.

She clucked her tongue. "I wouldn't do that. Not unless you want your man back in pieces."

The captain, Macklemore, held his arm out and the rest of his men lowered their weapons. They’d already lost one man as a hostage. He wasn't going to let them take another. There was a brief stretch of silence as both marine and felon stared each other down.

Finally the captain spoke first. “You know…maybe we can make some kind of a deal…” Macklemore looked down at his nails, examining them intently before he looked back up at Aylin and locked eyes with her. “You look like a smart woman…” He took a step forward, causing Aylin to tighten the blade at the officer’s throat, her jaw clenching.

Well, she _had_ wanted to get their attention. Still, she had to wonder what was taking Rocinante so long with that signal.

Just then, a loud curse was heard from the tall grass where they’d once been hiding.

“ACK, STUPID THING…IT'S JAMMED...” The tall man stumbled out from his hiding place and promptly tripped over a root that was sticking up out of the ground, his bazooka suddenly going off and its missile heading straight for the cargo ship.

“AW, SHIT!!”

Aylin's eyes widened almost comically. The ship would be destroyed! Shoving aside the hostage, she sprung into action. She took three sprinting steps toward the cargo ship before expertly hurling her long sword toward the airborne missile with all the strength she could muster. It flipped through the air like a wild boomerang, hurtling toward its target.

Right before the eyes of several shrieking marines, Aylin's sword caught the side of the missile with just enough force to send it veering off-course. It headed straight for the crowd of marines, who erupted into more inane hollering as they hit the dirt, allowing the missile to sail just over their heads and into the trees behind them. It exploded on impact, sending a shower of dirt and debris raining down onto the beach.

Aylin ducked out of the way of a large tree trunk, eyes darting toward Rocinante. He hadn't done that on purpose, had he?!

Rocinante gaped with his mouth open wide as his hands absentmindedly dusted off his pants. He shouldered the bazooka once more looking rather sheepish, but cupped his free hand around his mouth and yelled, “THAT WAS SO COOL, LIN!”

His vision traveled to the scene behind her as the three mercenaries were already working together with the crew from the grounded ship to transfer the black market goods to their new transport vessel.  
One of the crew now stood out front, a gun to the head of one of the marines, though their position had shifted slightly at the site of the on-coming bazooka.

“YOU CRAZY?” The man keeping a hostage yelled, a wild look in his eyes. “YOU COULD’VE KILLED US ALL! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH GUNPOWDER IS IN THIS THING?” He jerked the thumb of his free hand to the ship behind him.

'Pity,' Rocinante thought. The ship was about a hundred times nicer than the one they’d came on. But surely that rickety ship they were using now would be more suited to their smuggling purposes.  
He reloaded his bazooka and jogged toward the group of scrambling marines. He was an imposing sight, towering over the lot of them. The irony was not lost on him that he was now threatening those who were, in essence, his own comrades.

He cleared his throat, narrowing his eyes as he glared down at them. “Don’t you dare move, unless you feel like gunpowder for lunch.” He followed up the threat with a grunt.

"He's bluffing!" One marine shouted out. "From that distance, he'd be killed, too!"

"Arrest them," came the booming voice of Captain Macklemore, who was suddenly in the place of the smuggler who had held one of his subordinates hostage. The man lay unconscious on the sandy beach nearby. "We're finished messing around!"

Aylin grit her teeth; she hadn't even seen the Captain move. "He was just waiting for them to come outside," she muttered under her breath. Her eyes fell upon her silver longsword, which lay half-buried in the sand near ten marines. Crap. She hoped Rocinante could handle himself, because it looked like he was going to be on his own for the moment.

All at once, the marines swarmed the two black market outlaws, firing guns and swinging swords. Aylin leapt out of a bullet's path, slowly making her way toward her weapon. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted the mercenaries carrying off boxes of cargo. All the attention was currently focused on herself and Rocinante... Well, she had to hand it to him, this was certainly an effective distraction!

Rocinante, for all his cumbersome size and clumsiness, proved to be quite astute in battle after all. He lowered the bazooka, taking out two smaller handguns and firing them in succession at their foes, taking out one with each bullet.

So those were the skills he was hired for, she surmised. It was a relief to see that he possessed more than simply brute strength for lifting boxes all day.

Half of their foes went down before Aylin was finally able to reach her sword. They could see that the transfer was still coming along neatly in the background despite the angry marine captain, who was yelling for their blood all the while.

Rocinante took out two more men who dropped, howling and clutching their legs. He bent over the nearest one with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry," he said, keeping his voice low. "Don’t worry, there’s another fleet on the way. We’ll make sure you all get medical attention.”

The marine looked at the man as if he’d grown several new appendages. Wasn’t he one of the smugglers and mercenaries?! But before he could think to question the enemy's actions, Rocinante had moved on to the next fight.

Meanwhile Aylin had rolled to her feet with her longsword in hand, fending off several attackers as she righted herself. Their numbers were dwindling, though she'd seen Captain Macklemore shouting into a den den mushi and knew that it wouldn't be long before they were vastly outnumbered by fresh enemies.

They would have to get out of there, and soon... The mercenaries should have finished moving the cargo by now, though neither Aylin nor Rocinante had seen any of them return to the beach to provide back-up. Hadn't they been just _itching_ for a fight earlier?

Aylin frowned as her sword clashed with the one belonging to Captain Macklemore. Escape would not be possible as long as the marine captain was still standing. She shouted to Rocinante over her shoulder, "Make quick work of these guys! We've got to go!"

Rocinante threw himself against the remaining marines, using his bazooka like a club. He looked like a great spindly ogre as he kicked up sand in his wake, running across the beach and batting every man or woman that came at him with ill intent.

He was nearing the transport vessel when he noticed that it was no longer beached. In fact, one of the mercenaries they’d hired gave him a gap-toothed grin with a salute as held the mooring rope in one hand.

“GYAAAAAAH!!!” The undercover marine grabbed his head, dropping the bazooka abruptly. A man that had been coming up behind him with a knife cried out and was silenced when the falling weapon took him out by pure coincidence.

“LIN!!!” Rocinante shouted while he pointed at the ship that was rapidly getting further and further out to sea. She had just turned her head when he tripped over the prone body of his would-be attacker, flailing and falling face first into the sand.

Aylin's eyes traveled first to Rocinante wriggling about on the ground, and then toward the sea where he'd been wildly gesturing moments ago. Her brow furrowed as she caught sight of the vessel sailing out to sea. "What...? No!!" Her jaw clenched as she felt a swell of anger. She should have expected this, although she'd been counting on a handsome payment being enough to secure their temporary loyalty. Perhaps someone else had been willing to pay a higher price...

There was no time to think things through. Captain Macklemore's sword sang through the air, narrowly missing her as she swiftly stepped aside to block the blow. Her own sword's grip vibrated in her hands upon impact, though she quickly countered with several swings in an effort to gain the upper hand. But he matched her every attack with equally skilled parries and ripostes. He was pushing her closer toward the shoreline, leaving her no opportunity to reposition herself.

Metal clashed with metal, over and over. Aylin's eyes darted across her surroundings as much as she dared to allow them to. Rocinante was surrounded by a new wave of marines, although he was holding his own against them. If she could only get away from the captain...

Taking another step backward, Aylin's heel splashed into water. Captain Macklemore's sword came at her in a downward slice this time. She leapt away only enough to soften the blow, her shoulder taking most of the damage as she was sent sprawling into the shallow waves.

Captain Macklemore smirked, pausing momentarily as he steadied his blade above her. "That's right! I've got you now, you--AAUGH!!" He cried out in pain as a small throwing knife shot out from the water, embedding itself into his side.

It was the opening she'd been waiting for. Aylin flipped to her feet, using his distracted state to her advantage. With one strong blow, the captain's own blade was knocked aside. Unlike him, however, Aylin did not stop to savor a potential victory. She continued her attack, carving an 'x' onto his chest.

He stumbled and fell backwards onto the sandy beach. Aylin followed, both hands tightening around the grip of her longsword. Her eyes narrowed as she rushed forward to finish him off. At the last second, she saw the smirk on his face and realized too late that she'd made a mistake.

Pain sliced through her abdomen, stopping her in her tracks. It took her a long moment to realize why the captain's kick had been so sharp.

"Shit..." Aylin wavered on her feet, determined to remain upright.

Suddenly from nearby came the shouts of more men, and she looked up to see a crowd of reinforcement marines running toward their fallen comrades.

"Shit!"

A triumphant laugh erupted from below her as Captain Macklemore continued to hold his bloodied shoe up, almost daring Aylin to try to strike at him again. “I hate getting too much blood on my alligators, but for you, my dear, it’s worth it. What’s a girl like you doing out here defying the law, anyway? We could use someone with your mettle in the marines...”

She was plainly struggling to stay on her feet, and Captain Macklemore added further insult to injury with another sharp kick. Aylin doubled over and the captain struggled to his feet, clutching the open wounds on his chest with his hands.

“I’ve been hurt worse by better…” He spat a mouthful of blood into the salty water as he took a halting step forward.

Aylin’s head felt heavy, it pounded as her blood rushed through her veins. 'This asshole’s lips are flapping, but I don’t hear a damn thing,' she thought as an intense ringing became the only sound she could perceive.

Suddenly the look on Macklemore’s face changed to one of surprise. Aylin attempted to maneuver herself to see what had changed, but lost her balance, anticipating what was coming next. That hard fall into salt water and hard packed sand…

But the impact never came.

Instead, a pair of strong arms lifted her easily, as if she were a sack of flour, and began to carry her off. In her haze of half-consciousness, it took Aylin a moment to realize what had happened.

Rocinante dashed off into the dense brush at the center of the island, holding the injured woman carefully to his chest. He put up his soundless bubble, leaving the brush he’d trampled in his haste as a trail.

He darted across the foreign terrain in a zig-zag pattern, much like a prey animal hoping to evade its hunter, tripping only once or twice on a stump or a rotting log. He finally broke through on the other side where ship they'd sailed in on had once been moored.

The undercover marine lowered himself into a crouch and began making his way around the edge of the trees and brush toward the only side that had no enemy eyes upon it. He darted into the brush again, stopping at the first clearing and sat down. Aylin was still in his arms and looking somewhat delirious.

He brushed her bangs back from her damp forehead, trying to make eye contact with her as her vision remained unfocused.

"Shit...the ship," she gasped out, vaguely realizing they were trapped on that island. Her head lolled back enough so that she was staring up at him, willing her eyes to focus as she drew in several breaths. "You...have any brilliant ideas? I'm op-open to suggestions about now..."

Rocinante almost cried with relief, somehow refraining himself from hugging her. “Of course not, I’m just a stupid rookie remember?” he joked instead, setting her down on the ground so she was leaning against the trunk of the largest tree. “Are you alright? You took some nasty hits back there…”

Aylin nodded. "Fine. Been through worse scrapes." She exhaled slowly, doing her best to put aside the throbbing pain of her injuries. They would need treating, but at least for now she should be able to keep moving. "That bastard...I knew he was calling for backup, but I didn't think they'd have a ship here so fa..." She trailed off, suddenly falling silent as her eyes widened slightly.

"Lin?" Rocinante instinctively reached for her shoulder, slightly concerned she may have just gone into shock.

But a moment later, she met his gaze. "Rocinante, they have a ship here. A ship! That's how we're getting the hell off this sand pit!"

“Wha? You want to STEAL a ship? Isn’t stealing what got us into this mess in the first pl---oh yeah, otherwise we’re stranded here."

Aylin mustered up the disdain to give him a look, though spared him the reminder of who he was working for.

Rocinante relented. "Okay…but we’re really, _really_ outnumbered…and you're hurt!”

"I can manage. But you're right, we _are_ outnumbered...and they're searching for us, so however we do this, we need to do it quick. Can you silence those missiles?" Upon his affirmation, she glanced around quickly before continuing, "Okay, this is what's going to happen..."

oOo

Minutes later, explosions began hampering the forest. Marines were scrambling from all sides, shouting amongst themselves as they attempted to track down the culprits, though they were unsure of where the explosives were even coming from. Trees were set alight, sending smoke billowing throughout the brush and creating a thick screen.

"Shit! Get out, move toward the shore!" Captain Macklemore shouted, his men scurrying about him like rats off a burning ship. He needed to get them to the ship they'd sailed in on...but finding their way to it amidst the chaos and smoky haze would be a bit of a challenge.

Meanwhile, on the south shore, two individuals were finding it first.

"It's working, even marines from this ship are heading into the forest to help! Keep shooting that thing toward the other side," Aylin instructed as she limped alongside the tall man, one hand covering the worst of her wounds. His ability had proven more useful than even she could have imagined on that particular day.

“Lin…” Rocinante looked down at her, concern covered his face, but she gave him a more authoritative glare and he stood straight to attention, firing off several more rounds. She was obviously in a lot of pain, but she was pushing through it. He couldn’t help but admire that kind of resolve and determination.

Leaving the chaos they’d wreaked in the dust, they seemed to be in the clear, even if momentarily. Their footsteps padded soundlessly on the burning sands.

Rocinante looked down again, giving an encouraging pat to Lin’s shoulder. “We’re almost there!” He dared not try hurry her and jostle her wounds. It seemed as though the men behind them were preoccupied enough to not notice what was going on over on this side of the island.

From inside the soundless bubble, a seething noise escaped from between Aylin’s teeth. She stumbled, falling onto one knee, hand still clutched tightly against her chest as if it was the only thing holding her together.

Rocinante bent down quickly and gathered her in his arms, ignoring her protests. If they were to escape with their lives, then neither of them could afford to be prideful. He carefully balanced the bazooka over his shoulder and took off, running as smoothly as he could manage toward the marine ship in the distance.

What a relief that it was a marine ship, something familiar to him. He’d have no trouble launching and navigating it, even without a crew on board. He scrambled up the rope latter on the side with one hand, checking on Aylin every few feet or so. She'd fallen silent again and he wondered if she'd reached the point of passing out.

Once they were over the side, he dashed down the stairs in search of a bunk room to place her in until they got away safely and he could take a closer look at her wounds. He knew that there were likely still marines stationed aboard the vessel, and Aylin was in no shape to help fend them off.

Entering the first bunk he came across, Rocinante made sure it was empty of inhabitants before gently placing her onto one of the beige-colored beds. None of these quarters ever had any sort of personality to them, and this one was no different. It was somehow comforting, in a way. He stepped back, watching her for as long a moment as he dared, one hand clutching the door frame.

"I'll be back, Lin. Hang in there," he said, and then turned to duck back out the door and secure the rest of the ship.


	4. A Friend Is What The Heart Needs

Aylin abruptly pushed herself into a sitting position, gasping as the effort left her abdomen stinging. Her hand grappled the sheet she'd been laying upon and she looked down, noting the bed. Her eyes grew wide. How long had she been out? Had they been captured?

She quickly glanced about the dimly lit room, though she saw no sign of Rocinante. Had he cut and run after all? Or had they killed him?

There wasn't time to waste. Aylin all but threw herself off the bed, staggering across the room and falling against the door. Her hands gripped the cold knob and she paused momentarily to listen for any sign of the enemy. Hearing nothing but the sound of her own stifled breaths, she pulled the door open and quickly peered into the hall.

Nothing to the left, nothing to the right. A flight of stairs was just ahead. Light reflected off the gray metal, indicating these stairs led up to the deck.

Aylin gritted her teeth, one hand fumbling for the pouch strapped to her thigh. Her fingers wrapped around the cool metal handle of a throwing knife as she slowly advanced into the hall, hobbling toward the stairs. She reached for the railing, clutching it for support as she began to ascend the steps without making a sound, watching the top closely.

She was about halfway up when she picked up the sound of footsteps approaching. Someone was coming. Aylin tightened her grip on the knife, drawing back her arm. A moment later, a figure appeared at the opening, blocking the light and casting a shadow onto the stairwell.

Aylin's lips curled into a snarl. She would rather die than let these bastards take her! A foot appeared, and the redhead shot forward to slice the owner's kneecap.

"Lin!"

She stopped short, emitting a surprised gasp as the knife clattered to the step at her feet just moments before she could unwittingly bury it into her comrade's flesh. She floundered for words for a moment before she finally stammered, "Oh...I...I thought..." Aylin shook her head, as if to clear the haze from her mind. "Rocinante, what's going on?"

His face softened. “Lin…” He smiled and then helped her the rest of the way up the stairs. “We made it! I stole the ship for you and those buffoons didn’t even realize it! Haha! I was able to weigh anchor due to all this nice marine technology! I was just coming to check on you…you shouldn’t be moving around so much!”

Aylin only grunted in reply as they made their way up to the deck. She did have to admit to herself that she was pleasantly surprised that he’d been able to do so much on his own, given his clumsy tendencies.  
Seagulls called to each other overhead as the salt-tinged wind blew across the deck. Rocinante had only supported Aylin on their way to the infirmary, but after she stumbled more than once, he figured her pride would just have to take the hit and he carried her the rest of the way.

He placed Aylin on the cold metal examination table and began rummaging through all the drawers of the cabinets in the room that held the supplies. They were shut tightly and bolted to the floor to accommodate shipboard life.

“Aha!” He pulled out a small box that was filled with antiseptic cleaning solutions, cotton balls and bandages. “Um…” The tall man flushed a dark red and averted his eyes. “Could you…lift your shirt a bit? I need to clean that wound… You don’t…think you have any broken ribs, do you?”

"No, I don't think so," Aylin replied. One of her hands began undoing the buttons of her blood-soaked shirt, while she used the other to support her weight. He was very awkwardly staring at an apparently interesting spot on the wall, and she probably would have laughed at that if she could have done so without doubling over in pain. At least he had the decency not to leer at her partially undressed state.

She let the shirt fall to the floor, glancing down to take stock of her wounds. The one on her shoulder was the most superficial, a long scratch at best. The two on her abdomen were the worst; one elongated slash across her midsection and a stab wound to the right of it.

Aylin touched them gingerly, blood coating her trembling fingers as she whispered, "Bastard missed my vitals, I think... Lucky me."

Rocinante cleared his throat, almost tripping as he strode closer to her with the bandages. He was trying not to look at her, but he realized that he would have to for the sake of tending to her wounds. He’d also brought over a number of white cloths, and he doused them in antiseptic solution as he got on his knees next to the table.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a completely apologetic look at the woman as he began very carefully cleaning the cuts and gashes.

She winced a few times throughout and he always tried to stop and give her a little break between each wound. Soon all of her cuts and gashes were cleaned and he began applying the bandages as tightly as he dared.

“That one looked pretty bad, Lin…I hope this ship makes better time than that old one we sailed over here on. I think you really need stitches…” His face was a mask of concern and he hoped she didn’t mistake it for pity or him thinking that she was weak.

"I've had worse," she remarked softly, sitting rigidly as possible as he taped the bandages in place.

“I’m really glad it wasn’t worse, though…and those guys turning on us like that…what’s going to happen now? Don Fettuccine will never get his cargo. What if he retaliates? Is there some kind of protocol you guys use for this type of situation?”

Aylin pursed her lips. "Those mercs...it could be that they made a deal with an enemy of the Alfredo Family. Someone must not have wanted him to get whatever was in that stash. It happens sometimes... Scarlet made a bad call. But you're right, Fettuccine probably will retaliate. When a guy like him doesn't get what he wants, well...things don't end happily."

Her hands balled into fists at her sides. She didn't quite know how Blackburn would react to hearing of this unfortunate turn of events, and she couldn't help but wonder if the blame would be pinned on her regardless of whose fault it had been.

Aylin's gaze fixed upon Rocinante as he sat back on his heels, meeting his eyes as he chanced a glance up at her once she had pulled her ragged shirt back on.

"Hey..." She leaned forward as much as she was able. "You know, some might say you did a really stupid thing back there. You...you could have gotten yourself killed... The smarter thing would have been to just leave me." She stared hard into his eyes, still unable to figure him out. Anyone else in this business would have done just that, and she wouldn't have thought twice about it. That's just the way things were.

Rocinante stared back for a long moment.”How…how could you think I’d ever…?” The words died on his lips as he remembered that she didn’t know him. She didn’t know what kind of person he really was. Maybe she couldn’t ever really know. The double agent thing was truly taxing and had to be kept a secret, after all.

But the way she so easily accepted that anyone else would have just turned their back, it sent a pang of hurt through his chest, along with the fact that she wasn’t able to trust anyone. Hell, she probably didn’t have any friends either if that was her true outlook. Should he ask? Should he keep quiet?

One thing was for certain; people didn’t come out of something like that together without forming some kind of bond. What they both really seemed to need was a friend. He would probably have to keep lying to her, of course...but she seemed different than the rest of them. He knew there was more to her under that hardened exterior. Maybe he could get to know her little by little. Maybe she even trusted him somewhat after the whole ordeal.

He turned back to meet her gaze. “It was the right thing to do, Lin…and it makes me sad that you seem to believe beyond the shadow of a doubt that anyone else in the world would have left you for dead.”

Aylin returned his look with a grim smile. "Nobody's ever proven me wrong before." For a fleeting moment, he could have sworn he saw a glimmer of sadness in her eyes, but it was gone in an instant as she shrugged one shoulder and continued, "It's just the way things are. Self-preservation is priority in this business. But for what it's worth...thank you. I really owe you one for today."

“Owe me?” He echoed. “But I was just doing what any decent person would…” The look she gave him at that told him that she’d pretty much never met any decent people. He felt a coldness settle into the pit of his stomach and pledged to himself then and there he would prove to her that decent people did exist in this world, and he could be counted among them. Even the success of his undercover mission wouldn't stop him from that; he could surely find a way to help her escape from all of this.

Rocinante began digging through the medical kit again, looking for some pain killers. He found a few, handed a couple to Aylin and stood back up, smacking his head against the ceiling. “Ow! Ehehe… I’ll go get you some water…”

Aylin shook her head in partial amusement as she watched him head toward the sink on the opposite side of the room. It was only then that she noted the stains of red coating the back of his shirt. Her brow furrowed. The front of him was covered in blood, but she had assumed most of it had come from her. This, however...

"Rocinante, stop." She slid off the table, striding toward him as best she could in her current condition. He turned toward her, a questioning look on his face, and she continued, "Your shirt. Take it off."

He froze, turning around almost robotically, his eyes wide and his face red once again. “Wh…wh...wh...wh…come again?”

Aylin's reply was almost accusatory. "You're injured. When were you going to say something about it? Come on." She motioned for him to come closer to her level and then her tone softened a bit. "Let's see the damage."

“Oh…” Rocinante met her eyes as he lowered himself to the ground, sitting cross-legged in front of her. “I…wasn’t going to say anything about it…” He folded his arms over his chest and broke eye contact for a minute, then looked back up at her as he reached for the first button on his shirt. “Can you…not look at me so intently while I do this?” The flush rose in his face again.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes, having not realized the intensity of her gaze. Still, she complied and instead went to retrieve the medical kit nearby. By the time she'd returned with it, Rocinante had tossed his bloodied shirt aside and was waiting patiently, leaning slightly forward with his elbows resting on his legs.

Aylin blinked in surprise as she got a good look at him, nearly faltering in her footsteps. Not only could she see the wounds inflicted on him earlier that day, but also the evidence of several others he'd apparently received in the past...all the scars carved into his body told her as much.

Her shock wore off after a moment and she returned to the task at hand. Saying nothing, she circled him once, taking note of all his injuries. There were a few superficial gashes on his chest, though she'd been right in assuming most of the blood on the front of his shirt had come from her own injuries.

A pang of guilt tugged at her chest as she stepped around him to take a look at his back. Multiple bullet wounds decorated his musculature, most of them still actively bleeding. Aylin frowned as she inspected them more closely. He must have been shot while his back was to the marines...while he was rescuing her... It had all seemed like such a blur. She didn't even remember hearing the sound of gunfire.

How crazy! She couldn't understand why he would risk his life to help her. What could he gain from it? They were practically strangers. What reason could he possibly have for wanting to help her? Aylin wasn't sure if she felt more angry or remorseful.

"I'm going to see if I can dig some of these out. Might hurt a little." She pursed her lips and set to work, using a pair of sterile thumb forceps from the first aid kit. After a moment, she spoke again, trying to fill the silence and simultaneously distract him from the pain. "So were you just planning on letting me know about this once you'd passed out from blood loss?"

“Would you punch me in the wounds if I said yes?” He looked over his shoulder at her, using every ounce of his willpower not to flinch and show the pain her actions were taking on his face.

A few more moments of silence and he started up again. “But thank you, Lin…I really wasn’t looking forward to digging those out myself…as you can see from the scars on my back, I sometimes do a slipshod job of patching myself up, but at this point I count myself lucky I still have both arms! You know...I think we make a pretty good team. Getting stabbed in the front and then the back…and still making it out on top.” A small smile formed on his lips as he kept his breathing nice and even.

"Yeah, well, it's too soon to be celebrating. I don't imagine Blackburn will be very sympathetic upon receiving the mission report." She nearly groaned inwardly, remembering that it was she who would be writing the aforementioned report. She felt Rocinante flinch as she dug another bullet from beneath his skin.

Rocinante let out a long breath. “Dang, that does smart a bit. If I don’t scream, do I get a lollipop at the end, doctor?” He smiled as cheerfully as the pain would allow while Aylin rolled her eyes behind him. “But really…we definitely need to get you to a doctor for that one big wound. I can get us back safely...I’ll go check on the instruments when we’re done here. You should get some rest, Lin.”

She shook her head even though he couldn't see her. "No, I'm fine. I need to be awake in case anything happens..." She stretched out some bandages to wrap around him; he was so large that she could just barely reach around to pass the roll from one hand to the other. "Maybe if we're lucky, we'll catch up to those sons of bitches. I have a few choice words for them." A moment later she sat back, admiring her handiwork. "Well, I'm no medic, but I'd say it'll hold until we get back."

Rocinante turned his head trying to get a look over his shoulder and then patted the side of the snug bandages on his chest. “You should’ve gone to med school, Ms. Lin,” Rocinante said in a fake drawl as he picked himself up off the floor and promptly dinged his head on the ceiling.

“Ow…they really don’t ever make ceilings tall enough for me…” He rubbed the back of his head, thinking about how his brother probably would’ve just hacked up any ceiling that dared to touch his head unbidden. He was a real piece of work…and Rocinante had been following his exploits since the time they’d been separated. Such madness…why did he cling so hard to their origins? Did he truly believe that their so-called noble birth made them any better than anyone else born in this world? It was completely ridiculous.

And what about those goons he’d gathered around him, each with some strange kind of devil fruit power of their own…? He’d gotten their dossiers from what Sengoku’s department had gleaned on the people around his brother and studied them near religiously. These people were the ones his brother had chosen, the ones he referred to now as his ‘family...’

Rocinante was so lost in his train of thought that he didn’t even hear the next thing Lin said to him. “Huh? I’m sorry, what? Must’ve hit my head harder than I thought…” He searched around for his shirt, but it was too bloodied and tattered to continue wearing, so he decided to just go without it.

Aylin's blue gaze had been settled on him while he'd been staring off into space, her expression unreadable. She sighed and shook her head. "Never mind, it's not important. Come on, let's go and make sure we're still on course."

The rest of the trip back was rather uneventful, without even a storm to mix things up. Aylin was thankful for that, at the very least. She was surprised to find that Rocinante was actually quite good at navigating the seas and could manage just fine without help. She was grateful for it, considering she was honestly too fatigued to be of any real assistance. She'd done a great job of putting on a strong front, claiming that she should remain awake in case they were attacked, but the truth of the matter was that she wasn't sure she could have fended off a toddler in her current condition. She'd lost a lot of blood and she was weak. But he didn't need to know that. He had proven himself a reliable partner, though a part of her still wasn't sure that she could trust him completely. Aylin believed that he was a good person, however she still thought his ideals were quite contradictory for a member of the Blackburn Syndicate.

Aylin had to remind herself that a person's reasoning was their own, and whatever it was that had led him down this path didn't automatically make him the same as everyone else in the business. She, of all people, ought to know that best...

Upon returning, they docked the marine ship at a port on the opposite side of Penndel as not to alarm the Syndicate. It was after dark, which made the walk through town much less conspicuous. With fewer people around, there wasn't as much to worry about as far as providing an explanation for their bloodied and bandaged states.

They arrived at the back door of the shoe factory and Aylin unlocked it, ushering Rocinante inside ahead of her. She only paused for a moment when he smacked his head on the ceiling and cursed under his breath.

At his unrelenting insistence, she allowed him to escort her to the medical bay so that Stokes, the Syndicate's doctor, could examine and stitch up her wounds. Once Rocinante's own wounds were taken care of, Aylin waved him away, citing that she would be fine and he needed to get some sleep.

Rocinante left for his quarters and Aylin, on doctor's orders, remained in the medical bay for overnight observation. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts and uncertainty, unsure of what the next day would bring, but eventually her eyelids became too heavy to keep open and darkness claimed her consciousness.

oOo

This, of course, was not the first time that one of Aylin's assignments had not gone according to plan. She had been a member of the organization for the last six years, and throughout that time, she'd been part of her share of blunders. Two of the most memorable ones had been her own fault, back in the earlier days when she was still a rookie.

The way the Blackburn Syndicate handled disciplinary action seemed to her a bit unpredictable and even somewhat peculiar. Thinking back to the first time she had failed an assignment, Aylin recalled how furious Scarlet had been the day she'd been called in to report on the incident. Scarlet and the rest of the Inner Circle had condemned her to corporal punishment. Aylin had been confined to the dungeon to await the penalty, but something curious had occurred on the second day. Scarlet had personally come down and released her, uttering what sounded like grudging apologies and thinly-veiled threats as to what should happen if Aylin ever failed them again.

Not one word was ever spoken of the incident again, however Aylin was not ignorant to the face that her colleagues were often disciplined using equal methods after committing far less offenses. She had questioned the Inner Circle during their brief meetings once or twice, but always the inquiry was evaded or ignored altogether.

It gave her an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. There was obviously a reason for it, and she didn't know what that was...nor did they wish for her to.

So it was with a fair amount of caution that Aylin set foot into the office the next day to give her report. The Inner Circle was silent while she spoke, watching her with scrutinizing eyes, most of them with their hands hidden from view. She described in great detail the plan she'd come up with; how she and Rocinante scouted the island, the marines they encountered, their fight with Captain Macklemore and his men, and finally how the mercenaries had taken off with all of the stolen cargo. Aylin even recounted the fight that followed and how she and Rocinante had managed to escape by stealing the marine warship.

They watched, they listened, and when she had finally finished speaking, Scarlet gave her a nod.

"I see. Was there anything else?"

"No," Aylin replied, looking her in the eye. "That's everything."

Scarlet appeared as though she wanted to remark on something else, but held back. Instead, she said, "Very well. We will take care of it from here, Red Fox." She gestured toward the door with her eyes, indicating that Aylin was dismissed.

oOo

Rocinante had gone back to work the next day after a meager four hours of sleep, as if nothing had ever happened. It wasn’t as if Maynard gave a damn what he’d been through during his mission. Hell, he was annoyed that Rocinante had left him all alone with so much work. Rocinante had had to listen to a fifteen minute spiel about how difficult things had been, even though he knew Maynard was strong and capable enough to handle the workload without him around.

“Sorry…” Rocinante had mumbled, trying to look appropriately chastised even as he towered over his supervisor. He knew mentioning that his absence was due to orders would have no effect either. It would just be a stark reminder that Rocinante had been chosen for an important mission and Maynard had not.

The mind-numbing physical work that he promptly resumed gave him plenty of time to replay the failed mission’s events in his head. He felt a pang every time he remembered the way that Aylin’s open stab wound from Captain Macklemore had looked.

Since Maynard was so pissed off by his absence, Rocinante's lunch breaks had been limited to whatever he could cram into his mouth within a fifteen minute time span, not to mention all the extra hours and late-night shipments. And any attempt at sneaking away was always thwarted. Even using his incredible silent abilities, Rocinante was too tall, unwieldy and prone to crazy accidents.

Before he knew it, a week had passed since they’d returned. Rocinante puffed out his cheeks, determined to be able to go and check up on Aylin that day. He hoped she was okay…

He was finally able to ditch Maynard later that afternoon with an excuse about needing to use the bathroom. Coincidentally, the bathroom in the cargo wing was flooded and currently unusable, so Maynard was unable to object.

Free for the moment, Rocinante hurried down the corridors and attempted to make his way deeper into the Syndicate headquarters where he knew Aylin worked. He wasn’t exactly sure where, exactly, but he figured he’d find her eventually if he just kept looking. Maybe the med bay would be a good place to start. He could ask about her wellbeing and whether or not she’d had any checkups since their arrival. Then again, that was at the risk of looking like some kind of stalker.

Stokes looked up from his clipboard as Rocinante entered the medical bay, immediately giving the young man a critical gaze. "Well, look who it is. You skipped your recheck so I just assumed you had died."

Rocinante was about to laugh and say something back when it occurred to him that the man might not be joking. Instead, he managed a bashful look. “Well, it was right back to work and you know how Maynard is…” He trailed off and shrugged one of his shoulders. “But in any case, I am sorry I missed it…” The man hadn’t stopped writing in that clipboard of his after he’d taken a brief second to chastise Rocinante. “...I don’t guess you’re doing a mental assessment on me, are you?”

Stokes snorted. "Kid, I'm pretty sure nobody here would ever pass one of those." He set the clipboard onto the desk nearby, folding his arms as he craned his neck to look up at the blond. "No, nothing like that. It's already been over a week since the two of you came crawling back, so I figure if you're up and about, all is well. Speaking of which, if you happen to see Wild roaming around, you tell her that if she wants her antibiotics to work, then she needs to actually come and get them."

“Eh?” Roci’s face fell. “I was actually here to ask you about her...you see, I haven’t seen her. I have no idea where to look! Hey, could you give me those antibiotics? I’m sure I’ll eventually find her and I can give them to her for you.” Rocinante idly wondered if all of this was making him look too goody-goody and immediately donned a more serious face.”You know…because I have some unfinished business with her as well. Strictly business, strictly…” He examined his fingernails for effect and then picked a rather large splinter out of his palm. “Huh…didn’t even notice that until just now…” He cracked his knuckles and then his neck and then looked back down at Dr. Stokes, holding his hand out for the bottle.

"Right..." Whether or not Stokes actually bought the explanation, Rocinante couldn't tell. The man seemed to have the driest personality on the planet. A moment later, though, Stokes had grabbed a pill vial from one of the shelves on his desk and was holding it up toward the taller man. He shook it once, rattling the capsules inside. "Very well. If you're that intent on tracking her down, make sure she gets this."

He accepted it, trying really hard not to smile. His hand was itching to perform the salute that he’d practiced amongst the marines, but that would have been a very bad idea. Instead he only nodded and took off further into the building. He bumped his head on each subsequent doorway, wracking his brain to remember the path that he’d been through when he'd first come through here. He’d only seen it once, but…  
Rocinante banged his way through yet another door and finally the ceilings opened up tall enough for him to stand comfortably. There were two women and one man seated at large desks in this room and the sights and smells faintly jogged his memory.

He cleared his throat albeit a bit timidly for a man of his stature. “Um…excuse me, I’m looking for Li--…er…Ms. Wild?”

Two of them paid no attention to his interruption, continuing to work among stacks of papers. One of the women eyed him critically from behind a very large book, as if his mere presence in the room was offensive.

She crinkled her nose a bit and reluctantly answered, "Wild's office is down that way, first door on the left." She pointed.

“Oh! Thank you so much!” Rocinante dashed in the direction that the woman had pointed, predictably banging his head on the door frame as he went.

He rubbed the spot on his forehead, sure that he would develop a red mark from the incessant abuse. “I really need to stop that…” He trailed off as he found Aylin’s office. The door was shut tight and a small nameplate adorned the otherwise blank surface. He reached his hand out and rapped his knuckles against the wood a few times, waiting for the all clear to come in.

There was no answer.

"Lin?" He tried again, once and then once again, then sighed rather dejectedly, thinking she must have gone home for the day. He looked down at the bottle of pills in his hand and then tucked them safely away into his pocket, all the while committing the path to her office to his memory. He’d try again tomorrow…earlier, maybe.

But he had no success the next day, nor the day after that. He even tried several times the following day, which only resulted in a talking to from Maynard for his trouble. No matter what time of day he showed up, Aylin didn't seem to be around. He was starting to suspect that perhaps she was simply avoiding him, although he couldn't think of a single reason why she should be. Hadn't they gotten along well during the mission? Hadn't they made a good team? His imagination was beginning to run wild on him. He decided that if she was going to continue ignoring his visits then, well, he would simply have to break down the door and find out why.

Rocinante strode over to Aylin's office with purpose the next evening, a determined expression on his face even as his forehead cracked the doorframe while he failed yet again to duck beneath it. He raised a fist and knocked on the wooden door, then paused. As expected, there came no answer from within.

Well, he'd given politeness enough of a chance. Rocinante took a step back, turning his shoulder toward the door as if it were a battering ram. Just as he was propelling himself toward it to forcibly enter the room, the door opened from the inside.

His eyes widened comically. "What the--?!" Unable to stop in time, Rocinante could do nothing but flail his way into the room, his momentum sending him bowling into a couple of chairs and then crashing onto the floor.

A familiar female voice drifted over from the doorway. "I think that's my line! What did that door ever do to you?"

The tall blond looked up from his heap on the floor, struggling to get to his feet in embarrassment.

“L-LIN! You’re here…I’ve, I’ve been looking everywhere for you…every day!” He quickly schooled his features and cleared his throat loudly as he reached into his jacket pocket. “Strictly for business reasons of course…Here.” He handed her the bottle from Dr. Stokes that contained the antibiotics. “Doctor’s orders…he said you’d have to take them if you wanted them to work. Oh! Right, sorry, they’re antibiotics…”

Aylin eyed the bottle for a moment before reaching out to take it from him. She looked tired, as if she hadn't slept in a while. "Right... I've had a lot going on, so I guess it slipped my mind." Her gaze met his. "Was that all?"

Rocinante froze, tripping over his own tongue as he tried to think of something to say to her. Wasn’t it his mission to show her what a good guy he was? Well, he wasn’t just going to be a delivery boy for Stokes!  
“Uh…um, ah…you…well…I admit, the pills were kind of an excuse to come see you. I wanted to see how things are going…” He broke eye contact, looking away and rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. His back was starting to ache from staying so hunched over. It seemed her office had a much lower ceiling than most of HQ.

Aylin shrugged with her good shoulder, glancing around her office a bit. "Well, I'm assuming you received word that Blackburn wasn't going to hold us accountable for what happened. I'm told they put a price on the heads of those mercenaries. In the meantime, I'm stuck with a lot of paperwork." She gestured to the massive stack on her desk.

"Actually, I meant how are you doing?"

"Oh." Aylin seemed slightly surprised by that statement, and it was another moment before she replied, "I'm fine. Everything seems to be healing pretty well. I'll be back in action before long." She offered him a small smirk at that. "And you?"

Rocinante looked relieved to hear her answer as he supplied his own. “As well as can be expected for someone so clumsy.” He held up his arms like limp noodles and chuckled. “Maynard has barely let me breathe lately. I think he was jealous that I got to go on the mission instead of him…” He trailed off as she hummed in agreement.

A small pause filled the room before he started up again. “Hey…you look really tired, why don’t you cut out early for the night?" Her expression decidedly said 'I'll pass,' so he followed up with, "Or if you really need to come back…just come get a cup of coffee with me first. Maybe it’ll give you some energy. My treat, though you might want to wear a raincoat in case I end up spilling it everywhere…ehehehe!”

Aylin's initial thought was to decline the invitation and simply go back to work. But evidently he'd put a lot of effort into tracking her down, and furthermore, a caffeinated beverage seemed like a pretty good idea at the moment. She finally nodded. "Alright. I guess it couldn't hurt. Although with you around, maybe it could."

“Hey, I did suggest you wear a raincoat! I know the perfect place, it’s right near here. I go there every morning and thankfully they still let me in! I did punch a hole through their roof with my head, but I fixed it! These hands are good for more than just destruction, you know!”

He waved for her to go ahead of him and then ducked out the door, following her out of the HQ a way he hadn’t seen before. “Are you teaching me the secret passages?” Rocinante grinned down at her as he stretched his hands up as far as they would go. “Ah, feels great to be outside!”

The sun was already halfway down as they made their way to the little coffee shop. It didn’t look like much; it was like a tiny shack, mostly made out of a lot of old sun-bleached wood. There was a large patch on the roof where the wood looked new. Some tables and chairs were set up outside on a small patio and a fragrant aroma was wafting out of the open window, along with the sound of musical laughter.

Rocinante held the door open for Aylin as he raised a hand to the woman at the bar. “Joann! Good evening!”

The middle-aged woman looked up from where she had been wiping the counter and slung the rag she was using over her shoulder as she waved. “Well, well, Rocinante! You’re kind of late today, aren’t you?” She grinned.

“Yeah! My friend here is in dire need of caffeine, ma’am! Can you bring us two espressos and a bit of cream? We’re going to sit outside.”

Joann nodded. “Coming right up! I’ll put it on your tab. You want anything to eat with that? We have a good hearty soup that Charlie made and some croissants, but we always got those. I’ll bring you a basket for the table.” She winked and set to work on the espresso calling over her shoulder, “CHARLIE, BRING ROCINANTE SOME CROISSANTS!”

Aylin could just make out the affirmation of the unseen ‘Charlie’ as Rocinante led her back outside to one of the tables.

“I’m glad it’s not too cold tonight...feels just right, actually!” Rocinante sat back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head and nearly losing his balance in the process. He managed to right himself and let out a contented sigh. “You’re going to love their espresso! I mean, at least I hope you do. To be honest, I’m not too sure what you do like! Was…was that wrong of me to order for you?!” Rocinante suddenly looked horrified, as if he’d committed some kind of atrocity towards her.

"Not if you're footing the bill," she replied with a slight smirk. She'd been looking around the place, noting how cozy it seemed and how Rocinante seemed so familiar with everyone who worked there; his face lit up each time an employee walked by and greeted him. He was clearly a regular customer. She'd never even known this place existed.

He looked visibly relieved, throwing back his head and laughing a bit while slamming his fist onto the table. “Oh, whew! Though really, you could order pretty much anything off the menu here and I guarantee that you would not spit it out in disgust!”

Aylin's lips curled slightly in a subtle smile as the sugar bowl jumped a bit on impact. "Good to know."

“I’m really happy you’re doing well, Lin. I bet you even have a badass scar to add to your collection, I know I do!” He smiled at her happily. He was really enjoying spending time with her outside of work. It was all part of his plan to show her that not everyone in this world was holding a knife behind their back and waiting for an opportune time to stab...which was ironic, he realized, considering the position he was in.

She folded her arms on the table before her, arching one eyebrow in question. "A collection, is that what you call it?" Her mind presented her with the memory of Rocinante's scarred body and she wondered yet again how a man so young had ended up with so many of them already. "Well, mine is nothing to write home about. Few here and there... You should see Maynard, he's definitely got you beat."

Rocinante chuckled. “Maybe I should bring that up sometime, I bet it would make the old man’s day to beat me at something! Not to brag or anything…I just guess I am kinda strong due to how tall I am…sometimes I wonder if I’m a mutant, but apparently it runs in the family.”

Aylin snorted, "So you're telling me there are more of you running around?"

Roci’s eyes widened and he held up a hand. “OH, NO, NO. I don’t have any kids!!!” His face flushed for a moment as she snickered, probably thinking he looked too young to have had any children anyway. “At least not yet…I was actually talking about my dad and my brother…though I haven’t seen my brother since I was very young." Rocinante almost immediately started slapping his forehead mentally as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

"I see...sorry to hear that," she replied sincerely, and just as he'd suspected, she didn't investigate any further than that. Moments later, the waitress came outside with their espressos and set them down at the table. Aylin nodded a polite 'thank you' while she took her cup.

Rocinante picked up his own cup and held it out towards Aylin. “How about a toast? I know it’s not beer or anything, but…here’s to friends!” She gave him an amused look as he clinked their mugs together. The small mug looked downright comical in his huge hands. “I usually order several of these,” Rocinante admitted. “One is just never enough to caffeinate my huge body…” He scratched the back of his head for a second.

"Imagine that," Aylin remarked as she brought her mug to her lips, taking a careful sip of the hot drink. Rocinante, however, was not so cautious. She watched him gulp down the entire beverage at once and suddenly he was gasping and grasping his throat.

“HOT, HOT!” He sputtered and then stuck his tongue out as far as it would go, panting. He put the cup back down on the table and flailed, falling over in his chair with a loud thunk.

“Hnnnnnngh…”

Aylin knew that this was a regular enough occurrence even here at the coffeehouse when no one rushed outside to try and help the man.

Joann came back out, bringing a tray of soup and croissants along with several more espresso cups. Seeing the Rocinante's prone figure, she clucked her tongue. “Rocinante, did you burn your mouth again? Tsk! What did I tell you about letting your coffee cool first?”

“Shorry…” The large man picked himself up off the ground, dusting himself off as he took his proper seat again. “Shanks Joann, thish looksh great!”

Joann stifled a laugh and patted his shoulder, having to reach up to do so even when he was seated. He was so tall that his knees didn't even fit beneath the table. “You both enjoy, honey.”

The redhead looked amused, watching him as he sat hunched over in his chair, a sheepish grin on his face while he reached for a croissant. Truthfully, when she had agreed to come along, she hadn't expected to actually enjoy herself. But despite the constant mishaps, she found that she didn't dislike Rocinante’s company. She'd been trying to find reasons to avoid forging a friendship with him, but he was honestly the most genuine person she had ever met within the Syndicate. Still, she maintained that it was better to tread carefully. Genuine or not, she still had her suspicions about him.

She picked a croissant from the basket between them. "Don't go biting your tongue either. Should I have brought along a first aid kit?"

Rocinante crunched into his own croissant, stuffing the entire thing into his mouth after the first bite. “Mmph…” He gulped. “No need, I actually keep one in my jacket!” He winked at her and laughed to let her know he was joking. "I’m just glad I didn’t set the place on fire too when I fell over…haha.” Little did she know that wasn’t actually a joke. "Thanks for coming out with me."

Aylin shrugged as she tore of a piece of the croissant she held in her fingertips. "Well...it was nice to get out of the warehouse for a while. I guess I haven't really spent a lot of time outside of it, otherwise I might have noticed this place before. It's got a nice atmosphere," she added with a small nod as her gaze traveled around the decor of the patio, lit up with small tea lights.

“You’re a really hard woman to get a hold of, you know.” He chuckled and stuffed another entire croissant in his mouth. “I was starting to think for awhile that you’d been avoiding me…” He trailed off looking away from her as one of his hands absentmindedly reached for another croissant.

He wanted her to affirm that he was incorrect in assuming that, but he also felt completely stupid about bringing it up in the first place. They didn’t know each other very well and there was surely anything else they could talk about. He turned back to gaze down at her. “Sorry, that was just my own insecurity speaking. I don’t have the right to claim any of your time. We’re coworkers, but I meant what I toasted earlier. I’d like to be friends.”

She paused as she slowly chewed on both her croissant and his proposal. Surely it couldn't hurt to have an ally among the horde of backstabbers amidst the Blackburn Syndicate. He had already proven that she could trust him to have her back...at least for now. She was unsure of his true motives, but his warm brown eyes were honest and his words were sincere. Aylin felt compelled to relent.

She sighed, sitting back in her chair, her gaze never leaving his. "Friends, eh? It's...been a while since I've had one of those." She gave him the tiniest of smiles. "Might take some getting used to."

oOo

Rocinante walked back to the cramped apartment he called home after his evening with Aylin, feeling lighter than air. He truly hoped that she wouldn’t be going back to the Syndicate to continue her work, she had looked so tired, but she was a grown woman and could do as she pleased.

Rocinante was just grateful she hadn’t shot him down immediately when he broached the subject of friendship. He was accustomed to rejection due to his entirely too open and kindhearted nature, and he had braced himself for it. But she, unexpectedly, had agreed.

The grin that was plastered onto his face made his landlady take pause, as it wasn’t the usual exhaustion she was normally met with when he returned home.

“Miss Gretchen, hello! Isn’t it a great evening?”

She cocked her silver-haired head to the side. “If you say so, Rocinante.” She shook her head, but chuckled as she watched him practically skip up the stairs to his room, bumping his head on the ceiling and doorways as he went.

“Ouch…” Rocinante rubbed what was surely started to become a callus near his forehead as he entered his apartment. The ceilings were, unsurprisingly, too low for a man of his stature and the bed that the apartment had been furnished with was meant for someone half his size. He always joked to himself that he lived in a rat hole. It was the best he could do with the meager earnings he made as the lowest monkey on the rung within the Syndicate, and the marines hadn’t been able to fund him more than a few thousand beli to cover his trip over.

Rocinante prepared himself for bed. The sun had gone down already and his eyes were practically begging to close. He yawned after brushing his teeth and nestled himself as much as he could into the tiny bed. Both his legs hung over the end, his feet touching the cold wood floor, but usually he was so tired that he didn’t even notice and would fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He pulled the slightly tattered blanket up to his chin, but sleep didn’t come to him as instantly as he had expected it to. He found himself replaying his evening and the conversations with Aylin over and over in his head. He was happy, but at the same time, he felt like a fool. He hadn’t forgotten his mission, after all.

As nice a person she was, underneath that hard exterior from being stabbed in the back so many times, Rocinante realized that she was still one of them. One of the very people he had sworn to take down. In a few months, a year, however long it took for his infiltration to become complete…she’d be arrested along with all the other members of the Blackburn Syndicate…and wouldn’t that be reinforcing the betrayal that Aylin seemed to fear most?

Rocinante felt himself tear up slightly at the thought of this. How could he be so stupid?! She was a criminal…he was convinced that she was a good person, but still a criminal...and his job was to apprehend criminals. He couldn’t rightfully condone anything that went on in this place. He was there to put a stop to it.

The wheels in his head kept turning. If she really was as good as his gut instinct told him she was, then perhaps when enough time had gone by, he could reveal himself to her. He could ask her to join him...and when the marines inevitably came to shut the organization down, he could vouch for her. He'd say that she helped him by providing information and keeping a low profile.

Would Aylin even agree to that? What if he just thought she was a good person and she really was just like all the rest of them?

There was so much to consider, and Rocinante felt his chest ache at the thought of her not being as decent as he hoped. No, he could sense it...and he was never wrong about these things. She’d just agreed to be friends with him. Even just that much told him a lot about her. He’d get to know her, the real her, and somewhere along the line he would make that judgment call.

Another yawn escaped him in that moment, and he finally drifted off to sleep.


	5. I Heart Birchwood Isle

As days turned into weeks, and weeks became months, the unlikely friendship Aylin and Rocinante had formed eventually settled into something familiar and even comfortable, much to Aylin's surprise. Rocinante would find reasons to go and visit her in her office, bringing snacks he'd managed to pilfer from the cafeteria, and they would simply sit and talk until they'd lost track of time. She was not as forthcoming as he at first, but the more she came to know him, the more she would divulge to him. Gripes, inside information, likes and dislikes, weird dreams she'd had. They often found themselves trading humorous stories; Maynard's antics being among the more popular topics.

Sometimes when her shift ended, Aylin would exit the building to find him waiting for her, leaning against the brick building and pretending he was only there to have a post-work smoke. Often he was singed from his tendency to light himself on fire, which at first alarmed her until she came to accept that it was simply one of his odd quirks. Soon it became a tradition for them to meet up after work and go for coffee a few times a week.

Around Rocinante, Aylin began to find herself much more at ease. Lighter. She hadn't really realized how lonely she had become until she actually had someone else to talk to.

One day she received word that the Inner Circle had called her into a meeting again. These meetings only happened when Aylin was being assigned an important mission; all other lesser assignments were usually written into a formal document and delivered to her desk by one of the Inner Circle's errand grunts.

Stepping into the office they had reserved that day, she first noted the familiar black suits worn by Blackburn's most trusted associates. But what stuck out to her most was the tall, hunched figure who barely fit in the leather seat he was perched upon.

Aylin's eyebrows arched momentarily, making brief eye contact with Rocinante before quickly moving to seat herself. She wondered for a moment if this was about the cargo incident a while back...but as she had understood, that had all been resolved some time ago. She was replaying the last meeting over in her head when Scarlet stood and cleared her throat.

"I'll make this is quick as possible," she said, looking from Aylin to Rocinante. "The reason I've called the both of you in today is because Blackburn has elected to send you on another mission together."

Rocinante’s eyes lit up and he tried not to immediately fling his gaze at Aylin. This was exciting! This meant they were beginning to trust him more. He was getting closer to his ultimate goal! It was even happening a lot faster than he had initially predicted.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, nodding at Scarlet, nearly falling over in the cramped space as he attempted to sit up straighter.

Aylin herself maintained the same cool demeanor she'd walked in with, merely fixing her gaze on Scarlet and waiting for her to continue.

"One of the companies we've been in contact with recently has mentioned some interest in striking up a deal with us," the dark-haired woman continued. "They're a little hesitant in becoming involved with a black market organization, as most usually are at first. However, this particular company would be extremely beneficial to associate ourselves with." She crossed her arms and cast a knowing look to Aylin. "We want to make a good, lasting impression on them."

"Of course," Aylin replied, tenting her fingers on the table before her. The fact that Scarlet wasn't naming the company told her that they must be very well-known if they wished to keep such a low profile.

One of the men spoke up next. "Yes...it's very important that this mission is treated with utmost care and consideration. We weren't going to select just anyone to handle it..." His eyes bored into Aylin's, and she knew he wasn't exactly complimenting her.

"I understand," Aylin replied, noticing Rocinante fidgeting a bit in his seat across from her. "What does this job entail, exactly?"

"You will meet with representatives of this company," Scarlet replied. "Charm them. Convince them that a contract with us would be the smartest thing they'll ever do. But be warned...if you're unsuccessful, it may be more than just your job on the line." Her sharp eyes left Aylin's and fixated on Rocinante next. "And you...Blackburn is rather impressed with how well you've acclimated here in just five months. I'm told you've a certain charm to you as well. It's time to put that to good use. You'll assist our Red Fox on this mission. You are to be her second, her back-up." Scarlet glanced at each of them. "Understood?"

“Yes ma’am,” Rocinante said again.

"Yes," Aylin replied with a short nod as one of the men slid a manila envelope across the table toward her.

The Inner Circle turned their attention away from the pair and began talking quietly amongst themselves. One of them was jotting down notes in a large binder. They seemed to have already forgotten the presence of the two already, promptly ignoring them without so much as a goodbye, so Rocinante and Aylin took the hint and let themselves out.

Rocinante managed to exit the room in a professional manner for once, not even bumping his head. He tapped Aylin on the shoulder, motioning for her to accompany him on his smoke break. It wasn’t until they were out in the open air that he whooped for joy.

“LIN, THIS IS SO GREAT! I’m really excited about this mission!” He resisted the urge to scoop her up and swing her around like a doll.

Aylin made a face at his outburst, but he looked so delighted that she had to smile. "I think you're probably the only one who would celebrate walking into a hornet's nest," she said, watching as he lit his cigarette and then intervening just before the flame could jump to the sleeve of his shirt.

“ACK, thank you!” Rocinante began puffing away and pacing at the same time. “Do you think we’ll have to dress up really fancy? I’ll wear dark sunglasses and carry a bazooka and I won’t say ANYTHING. I could just grunt, that’s how they’ll know I’m tough. But maybe I should practice walking through doorways first…”

"That might do more harm than good," Aylin snorted in reply.

Rocinante rubbed his head absentmindedly at the spot where he usually injured it, nearly setting himself on fire once more. “AH! Well, I say we celebrate our mission together with dinner tonight. Then we can think up code names!”

"Actually, I don't..." Aylin trailed off, about to tell him that she usually didn't bother with code names, but he looked so happy about it that she couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. Instead, she conceded with a nod. "Alright, kid. Dinner it is." She smiled to herself. She had to admit, if anyone were coming along with her on this mission, she was glad it was Rocinante.

oOo

A few days later, the pair was off on a smaller and thankfully nicer ship than the last one they’d sailed on. They took a very small crew, this time men from the Syndicate and not mercenaries. Since this was supposed to be just a meeting, a negotiation, there’d be no need for heavy manpower. At least that’s what they hoped.

Aylin was not comfortable going in unarmed, although she was confident in their ability to make the transaction go smoothly. The worst thing that could possibly happen was Rocinante falling over during the meeting and setting the room ablaze.

She snorted at the mental picture.

“Hey! What’s so funny?” Rocinante had been gazing out to sea at a small pod of dolphins that had joined them for their journey, using the momentum from the boat to glide faster through the water.

“Just thinking about something a kid like you wouldn’t understand,” she replied in a teasing manner as he walked over and nudged her.

“HAH. You always say stuff like that, like you’re SO much older than me.”

"Aren't I?" Aylin arched an eyebrow as she stared up at him. "What are you, eighteen?"

"Twenty, actually."

She waved a hand dismissively. "I still have eleven years on you. You may be gigantic, but that baby face makes up for it." She smirked as he rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"So you're saying I should grow a beard?"

Aylin let out a small laugh. "Oh, I wouldn't recommend it. Beards are far too flammable." She scanned the horizon, the wind tossing her short hair about.

She scanned the horizon, the wind tossing her short hair about. They were about a day's journey from arriving at the port where they would be meeting the representatives. The company in question still remained a mystery, although Scarlet had said it was a very promising young corporation. Scant details were nothing new to Aylin, so she wasn't terribly concerned about it.

"We're making good time here," she observed as the ship steadily propelled them toward their destination. "If you don't mind, I'd like the crew to make a quick stop at the next port."

Rocinante had been rubbing his jaw line as if he were seriously considering growing a beard. “Hmm? You need to stock up on something? I know I’m running a bit low on cigarettes…” He pulled out a crumpled up pack, smacking it against his palm a few times before pulling one out and lighting it up. “Damn, only have two left in this one. Yeah, let's stop at the next port!”

"Alright. You know those things will kill you one day," she remarked, knowing full well that he was already aware of the risks. "Anyway, I...have something I need to mail out. It shouldn't take long at all and we'll be back at sea in no time."

oOo

In a matter of hours, just as Rocinante was taking the last drag on his last cigarette, a port came into view. A summer island from what he could see through the telescope. He let out an excited yell and alerted the crew who let the sails out full to hasten their docking.

He was the first one onto the sandy beach, tripping and landing flat on his face, desperately trying not to inhale the sand. “AHHH!” He yelled and jumped back up, holding both his hands high above his head. “I’m okay!”

The ridiculously tall man dusted the sand from his shirt and pants while taking a good look around, from his height he had a great view. There was a boardwalk along the sandy beach with couples strolling and eating ice cream and children running in the sand and making sandcastles.

Roci grinned as if he were a child himself. “Lin, we should get ice cream!!”

Aylin sighed at the spectacle, watching him for a moment before she leaped down from the ship, landing neatly and then adjusting the messenger bag over her shoulder.

"And you wonder why I call you 'kid,' eh?" She contemplated his request a moment longer, glancing up as a seagull cried above her head. "Well...I need to find a post office. If you can find an ice cream stand while I'm doing that, then dessert's on me."

Rocinante nodded as they continued walking. Aylin had to take about three strides to match one of his. He suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, his eyes widening. “OH, wait a second, I'll be right back!” He yelled as he dashed across the street.

Aylin looked on, folding her arms over her chest while he went running into a corner store that stood at the edge of a busy intersection. A few minutes later, he returned with a bag containing several cartons of cigarettes.

He pulled a pack out, slapping it against his palm multiple times and fumbled for a fresh one. “Dang it, they’re always stuck in there so good when it’s a new pack!” After nearly dropping the entire thing, he finally stuck a cigarette into his mouth. He lit it, taking a long drag and then groaned with pleasure. “That’s the good shit right there…”

They began heading toward the town and Aylin chuckled, nudging him back on course as he began to divert from the path. "Don't get too distracted, you'll end up in a ditch. On fire, too, probably."

He chuckled sheepishly and nodded, following along and trying to match his pace with hers.

The town had a laid back, cozy atmosphere and it was such a nice day out that Aylin almost regretted resigning themselves to just a quick stop. The salty smell of the ocean drifted by on the light breeze, and she thought that in another life she probably would have loved to live in a place like this. There were lots of small, brightly colored shops on each side of the street and the native islanders casually browsed local goods as they passed by. A handful of children raced after each other, cutting across the street in front of Aylin and Rocinante, who nearly tripped over himself trying to avoid colliding with them.

Aylin laughed, grabbing onto his trousers to steady him. "Little speed bumps," she joked, feeling lighter than she had in quite some time.

“Haha, whoa! Thanks Lin.” Rocinante managed to regain his balance as he walked beside her. He was so happy that they’d gotten to go on another mission together. He hadn’t had many friends in his life and for good reason, but lately he felt closer to her than to anyone else. It was a nice feeling. She had become his best friend, he realized.

He wanted to feel content in that moment, but a pang went through his chest as he once again thought of the secret he was still hiding from her, best friend or not. It gave him so much pause that his cigarette dropped from his mouth and he didn’t even try to catch it.

There was still so much that they didn't know about each other. So much that he had to keep from her. As much as he tried not to think about it, every now and then those thoughts would creep up on him when he least expected it. How long could he go on like this? Eventually she would find out...there was no way around it. He still hadn't quite decided on what the best course of action would be when that time came.

Rocinante stopped briefly to stomp out the fallen cigarette and then light another, holding back a melancholy sigh that threatened to escape from his chest.

"Hey, I think that must be the post office up ahead," Aylin commented as she waited for him to finish, breaking him from his gloomy train of thought. When he looked up, she gestured toward a small building with bleached siding and a wooden sign bearing an emblem of an envelope. "You keep looking for that ice cream stand and I'll meet up with you in a few minutes. Shouldn't be too hard to find the tallest man in the crowd," she added with a smirk before turning on her heel and taking long strides toward her destination.

Her intent was to hurry this along as quickly as possible and to get back on track with the mission, although they had made very good time thus far. She supposed it couldn't hurt to give in to one of his whims.

Rocinante reached his hand out after her retreating back, but then thought the better of going after her, recalling the look he’d seen in her eyes. It wasn’t his place to ask why or what she was mailing. He smoked his cigarette, watching her until she was safely inside the post office before he began to search for a place that sold ice cream.

There were still so many things he wanted to ask her and to know about her. He hoped there would be time for all that soon...this wasn’t a pleasure cruise, after all.

oOo

Aylin ducked under the colorful fabric divider hanging on the doorway of the post office, stepping inside and giving the woman at the counter a courteous smile. As she stepped in line behind two other customers, her hand grazed over her messenger bag, almost as if she were checking to make sure its contents had remained intact.

During the last mission, when the mercenaries had stolen their ship, they had also sailed off with something she had intended to mail out during the trip back. She imagined that ship was probably at the bottom of the ocean by now, along with the box she had brought along on the journey. This time, should anything go awry during their current assignment, at least Aylin could take some small comfort in knowing that this package would surely reach its destination.

The line moved along with relative quickness and before long, Aylin had paid the postal worker and passed the package over. She thanked the woman and stepped away from the counter. A warm breeze flowed through the building thanks to the fabric divider and she followed it back outside, shielding her eyes momentarily as they readjusted to the bright sunlight.

She had only been gone a few minutes, so she wouldn't have been surprised to find Rocinante still searching for his coveted ice cream stand. After walking a block or two down the street toward the very edge of town, Aylin noted a mop of blond hair atop a tall and lanky frame.

She'd been right; it wasn't hard to spot the largest man in the crowd. Particularly when he was in the process of wildly spinning in circles, patting out the flames scorching his shirt.

Aylin's eyes widened in a near comical fashion before she broke into a sprint toward him. He didn't notice her until she shouted, "Rocinante! Drop and roll!"

Upon hearing her voice, Rocinante shrieked and flailed. “LIN!” He cried out as he immediately hit the dirt and began rolling. But instead of rolling back and forth as he should have, he picked up too much momentum and before he knew it he was rolling downhill like a runaway barrel, heading straight toward the ocean near where their ship was docked.

Aylin could only stand and stare for a moment as he whirled past her as a blur of legs kicking up clouds of dust.

He emitted muffled yells and groans as his speed increased, hitting every rock or stray stick in his path. He rolled over and over and then at last onto the sandy beach, coughing and wheezing, sputtering as he tried to keep the sand out of his mouth. Finally he rolled into the ocean and was able to sink his hands into the wet sand, bringing himself to a stop.

It was only an inch or two of water, but the man immediately felt weak. He was still face-down in it for a few more seconds before he slowly managed to raise his head, spitting out mouthfuls of saltwater and sand.

Rociante attempted to stand up, only to fall over onto the beach again, coating his wet clothes with the dry sand. “Hnnnnnnnngh…” He wrapped his arms over his chest as he curled up on his side, willing the dizzy feeling to go away. He felt thoroughly embarrassed. Who knew how many people had seen that stunt?

Aylin's voice suddenly came from behind him. "I really can't take you anywhere, can I?" Her tone was stern, but she also sounded slightly winded, as though she'd been chasing after him as fast as her legs could carry her.

He turned over to face her, looking rather sheepish, and she extended a hand to help him up.

"Come on."

His lower lip was jutted out as far as it could go as he took her hand and was able to bring himself up onto his knees, where he attempted to shake the sand out of his hair.

“I’m sorry…” He then grimaced as he reached into his pockets and pulled out a waterlogged pack of cigarettes and sighed. “Damn!” He shook his head and threw the pack out into the ocean as far as it could go, yelling, “ENJOY THAT, FISH!”

Aylin snorted as she watched the display. As she'd gotten to know him better, she'd seen several sides of him. He was generally a kindhearted, easy going guy, though on a few occasions she had seen him really lose his temper, during which he could actually become quite violent. It was a little unexpected and she had to admit, she was secretly very interested in seeing what would happen if one of their enemies ever really pissed him off.

Meanwhile, Rocinante stood up to his full height, yanking at his wet, tattered shirt. He made a face and then decided he’d be better off without it, so he unbuttoned it and removed it. He hung the ruined shirt on a nearby rock while thinking to himself how lucky he was not to have hit THAT.

A shudder went through his body as the wind hit his bare, wet chest. Suddenly his eyes went wide. “Damn it! Damn, damn…I just realized I dropped my bag of cigarettes! Some stupid kids probably stole them. Ugh...” He reached up to scratch the back of his head and pulled off a chunk of seaweed in the process. “Wow...I’m a mess.”

It was at that point that Aylin couldn't hold in her laughter anymore. She let out a few loud guffaws, slapping at her knee and then struggling to remain standing as she doubled over. The whole thing was entirely too much, and she couldn't stop picturing the wide-eyed look on his face as he'd rolled off through town as an unstoppable miniature hurricane of limbs and dust.

Rocinante couldn’t help but smile at how amused she was. “Lin, hehe…I didn’t know you were so cute when you laughed. And that little snort at the end!” He grinned down at her as she gave him a half-hearted shove.

Finally pulling herself together after a moment, Aylin chanced another look at him, smirking as she wiped tears from her eyes. "You know, I think I saw a stand selling some 'I Heart Birchwood Isle' t-shirts. We could go back and get you one of those if you fancy looking like a tourist."

He laughed himself this time. “As a matter of fact, I DON’T love this island…so I was thinking something cuter, maybe a pink shirt with a heart print on it or something.” He grinned down at her as they made their way back into town. “...I can’t wait to get some damned ice cream after all that.”

"Did you even manage to find a place where we could get some?"

“Yeah, I saw some kids go in there, it has so many kinds! At least fifty flavors. Let’s go ask for samples of all of them and then not actually buy anything! Hehe!” Rocinante rubbed his hands together and licked his lips. “Oh yeah, but I will need to get that shirt first…no shoes, no shirt, no service, ehhh...”

Aylin shook her head in amusement. Sometimes he acted like such a child that she had to wonder if he'd ever even had a real childhood. Though like her, he seemed to avoid speaking of his past, and she hadn't ever brought it up. She figured if he ever wanted to tell her about it, he could do it on his own time.

She pointed to the rainbow-painted shop they were approaching, having noted racks of clothing set up outside its doors. "Alright, how about here? I bet you could find something decent in this mess."

Rocinante stared at the racks of clothes as if they were another enemy to fight. “I’m so bad at this…ugh. Lin…just pick something for me please, whatever it is I’ll wear it. Just remember though, I’ll be wearing it, but you still have to be seen with me. Oh, and size…uhh…size REALLY BIG. Haha…”

"Alright, so I suppose that rules out all of the flower prints," she said as she strolled through the display while he followed behind her, snagging himself on nearly every coat hanger and leaving a trail of crumpled shirts in his wake. Aylin continued, "We also have to bear in mind that we're meeting with those representatives. I'm thinking if you show up wearing a bright orange 'Life's a beach' t-shirt, we'd risk being shot on sight." She made a teasing face at that and stopped to sift through a rack of 'big and tall' shirts toward the back.

Rocinante looked over his shoulder at the mess he’d left behind. “Whoops…dangit…ah, Lin what are you going to wear?" He got down on his knees and began re-hanging all the shirts that he’d knocked over behind them, blushing and giggling when one of them was a bright red, skimpy bikini top. He turned and held it up for her to see. “How about this one?”

Aylin rolled her eyes. "Are we discussing a business deal or seducing them?" She flung a ruffled yellow article at him from the nearest rack, watching as it landed on his head. "I think you'd look real cute in this one, though. How about you go try it on?"

Rocinante’s voice was slightly muffled under the cloth. “Don’t you think you’re pretty enough to seduce them, Lin?” He pulled the shirt over his head, noting that the ruffles were actually feathers that made a ring around his neck. “I think you are.” He grinned and stood up walking over to the mirror to do a little pirouette in front of it. The shirt was a little small, stretching over his taut chest and back, accentuating the contours of every muscle.

She held back a snort, watching the grown man in front of her strike an array of silly poses. "I'm afraid I wouldn't stand a chance against you in that get-up," she retorted, willing the flush in her pale cheeks to fade. She wasn't used to compliments, and he was rather liberal with them as it turned out. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she reached into the rack of clothes once more and retrieved a dark blue button-down. "Here, this might work. Much fun as it is to watch you admire yourself, we've got to get a move on shortly."

Rocinante managed to wriggle out of the yellow shirt, getting it stuck on his head only twice in the process, and then he put on the blue shirt. “Perfect fit! Thanks Lin, you’re the best.” He smiled and put his hand on her shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze. “I think I’m going to get BOTH, because the world just can’t live without seeing me in this yellow shirt. I really just want to see Maynard’s face if I show up to work wearing it.”

He sniggered under his breath as he pulled the tag off of the blue shirt and brought both articles up to the register, knocking his head on the sign that hung above it. “OW! WHOOPS!” He scrambled to catch the sign that was swinging rather rapidly, then he placed the shirts onto the counter. “Just these, please, unless my partner wants that cute bra.” Rocinante turned and winked at Aylin.

Aylin gave him a look before shaking her head at the cashier. "I'm all set, thank you."

Rocinante paid the cashier and thanked her as she handed him a small paper bag containing both the shirts he'd bought. Then he and Aylin made their way back to the street.

"Alright, now show me where you found that ice cream shop," she said as she scanned the market place. "Might I suggest using that yellow monstrosity as a bib?"

“What? NO! I told you I’m going to wear this to work! Or I can take you dancing in it when we successfully complete our mission.” He grinned down at her, taking long strides towards the ice cream shop. “Hmmm, well now, after picking out my clothes it’s only right that I treat you to the ice cream…or we could get that giant sundae that has one scoop of each flavor and share it!” His eyes sparkled as he thought about all the delicious ice cream and he clenched his fists in anticipation, a thin line of drool escaping from his mouth.

"You're incorrigible," she remarked as she playfully smacked his arm, though she nearly had to stand on her toes to do so.

He looked at her and practically beamed. “But really…the best thing about this mission is that I get to spend it with you.”

The smile disappeared from her face just then and Aylin found herself a bit lost for words. Her mouth hung ajar, although no sound came out until she was finally able to force a chuckle from her throat. "Well...I wouldn't expect the rest of it to go so smoothly," she managed to say.

What she couldn't say, though, was that she felt the same. He had become an unexpectedly good friend to her over the past few months. Even though most of the time she would simply shake her head or roll her eyes at his antics, the truth was that he, with all his silliness and kind words, had brought a bright light into her dark and dreary world.

She would even go so far as to think of him as her closest friend...not that she'd really had any to start with, but it was a very nice change. One she could definitely get used to.


	6. Nice Night For A Stroll

A few additional days at sea was all it took for the pair and their crew to reach the meeting place. So far things were going quite well, though as they neared their destination, apprehension began to fill Rocinante’s chest. He knew he was supposed to just stand there and look tough for the most part, but that was a lot harder than it sounded.

Then he thought of Aylin’s direct, self-assured manner of speaking and remembered that she would be doing all the talking. Relief immediately flooded through him. As long as she was there, what could possibly go wrong? Not only did she excel at negotiation, but she was strong and skillful in a fight as well. The mission just might go off without a hitch, though Rocinante was hesitant to be so optimistic. He was enjoying himself for the time being, despite the fact that he was almost out of cigarettes again, even after buying another carton after the fiasco on the last island. He spent the duration of the journey out on the deck, breathing in the salty sea air and leaning against the railing. He nearly had to double over to reach it due to his height.

Aylin stayed nearby, always with her nose in the file of documents that Scarlet had given her before they left. He was sure that she wouldn't find anything new the twentieth time she read over them, but he guessed that was one way to alleviate boredom.

oOo

It was a clear afternoon when the ship sailed into the harbor of the bustling port city that was their destination. The tall buildings rising up around its half-circle waterfront could be spotted from miles away. The sunlight reflected off the metallic structures, creating something akin to beacons which guided the ship toward civilization.

"We're here! Crescent City!" One of the crew members whooped in excitement as he and the others prepared the ship for docking. It had only been a couple of days at sea, but some of them were already missing land.

The further in they went, the more Aylin could see why they were meeting representatives here. Lush green grass, tropical trees and brightly colored flowers decorated every spot in between the architecture. Men and women dressed up in expensive business attire walked briskly along the cobblestone paths between each of the artfully constructed buildings. Crescent City was clearly one of elegance and prosperity. She guessed it was the perfect spot for people to come and rub elbows with each other. A meeting with some company representatives over a shady business deal would likely go unnoticed in a place like this.

Rocinante lit up his last cigarette without also setting himself on fire as they weighed anchor. That in itself was a good sign for this mission, he thought as he exhaled a small cloud of smoke over his head. The men lowered the walkway, but Rocinante ignored it as he jumped over the side of the ship and bounded down the dock, face planting on the path that lead to the road into town.

“OOPS…” He rolled on his back and stared up toward the sun, squinting and grinning like a fool.

Footsteps immediately bounded past him as a few of the crew members headed down the dock, excitedly proclaiming they were going to pay a visit to the city's famed tavern district.

"Yes, great. Let's all get too drunk to sail back afterward," came Aylin's dry remark as her heeled boots clacked over the shiny mahogany planks at a leisurely stride. The ship had made good time on the trip over, though, so she supposed they had time to sober up before departure. She paused upon reaching the end of the docks, where wood met cobblestone, to wait for her partner to catch up. "We've got some time," she said once he'd hurried over. "I'd like to scout out the site of our business meeting first, though. Just in case... I don't want any surprises."

Rocinante grinned again. “Yes, ma’am! I will use the calm spell on the both of us and no one will know we're there! Good thing, too; I like your boots, but they’re noisy. This way you can still wear them. What time is the meeting, anyway?”

Aylin had been glancing down at her boots but she looked up when he asked the question. "Nine o'clock. It shouldn't be too hard to find the place. I've got the address." She patted the pouch strapped to her leg containing very few necessities. She'd left her longsword on board the ship, rather reluctantly as she didn't feel entirely comfortable without it, however she always kept a couple of throwing knives on her person in case a situation went sour.

Rocinante used his hand as a sunshield as he looked out over the port. There were so many businesses and houses. They all seemed smashed together near the docks, but he’d seen further from when they were back on the ship. The island held much greenery as well; calm rolling hills with manicured houses and lawns, all painted the same beige color, muted orange rooftops jumping out at you with a glance. It was a nice place. Of course, nearly any place was nice when you compared it to his residence as a child.

His stomach let out a long growl and he quickly covered it with both hands, his eyes widening.

“Sorry!” The tall man tended to eat like an elephant, his stomach and nutritional needs being much greater than most people of shorter stature.

"I guess we could grab lunch before doing some recon. Talk about my boots being loud..." Aylin shook her head in an amused manner before moving forward to venture further into town, gesturing for him to follow.

oOo

Before long, night had fallen over the city. All of its buildings and bright lights were so colorful against the dark sky that the sun's absence nearly went unnoticed. The night life was just as busy, if not more so than during the day. People of different walks of life lined the cobblestone streets, headed to various functions and get-togethers with friends.

While heading toward the large corporate building that was to be the site of negotiations, Aylin and Rocinante passed many jovial citizens who were either returning from or on their way toward the bar district. Among them included a few of the crew members they'd sailed in with, who met Aylin's glare with their best sheepish grins and hurried back toward the dock at quicker paces.

Their earlier reconnaissance of the place didn't yield much of interest. Inside the silent barrier that Rocinante created, they'd taken stock of their surroundings, made note of who occupied each floor at any given time, found the emergency exits and planned escape routes. The rooftop, where they were headed now to meet with the representatives, was of fairly little interest, being an open space containing nothing out of the ordinary. It seemed the representatives had chosen the spot not out of any relation to the company it belonged to, which seemed to be a cautious, if not rather paranoid decision.

Rocinante played his behavior up as he strolled, hands shoved in his pockets, his face drawn into a scowl. His lips still held a cigarette and he was wearing a pair of sunglasses even though it was now far too dark for them to be of any use. His shoulders were hunched ever so slightly. He was determined to look the part of the tough bodyguard thug, even though nothing could be further from the truth.

He and Aylin quietly let themselves into the building at the appointed location and he followed after her on the long trek up the stairs. As they finally reached the rooftop, he opened the door. It made a long and loud creak before slamming against the outside of the building.

Aylin hopped up first. The moon was new and there was no lighting, only the faint glow from the city below and the stars above. She could make out three figures of varying sizes standing with their backs to them at the edge of the other side of the roof.

'What laissez faire attitudes,' she thought. She motioned for Rocinante to come up, steadying him as he ducked under the low doorway lest he bump his head and fall back down all those flights of stairs.

Rocinante nodded to his partner and took in the surroundings as well, noting the seemingly easy-going group. He was wondering if he should clear his throat or something, though there was no way they hadn’t heard the door open.

After a moment of pause, Aylin walked forward. Her posture was full of confidence and her words were all business as she said, "Evening, folks. Nice night for a stroll, eh?" It was the sentence she'd been instructed to use so that they would know it was safe to speak with her. She watched as the three each turned to face them, giving her a better look, although the dim lighting didn't afford her much.

Two men and one woman. They all seemed to be dressed in black suits, one of them wearing a long trench coat. As her eyes adjusted to the darker lighting she realized, no, that wasn’t quite right; the suit the man on the right wore had a pinstripe pattern and it was not black, but a dark green. He had long hair that touched his shoulders and was slicked back neatly. On his hip was a long sword and she cursed at the fact that she'd not brought hers. Of course they would be armed, although she supposed not carrying a weapon could be viewed as a show of good faith.

Her hand instinctively reached for the hidden place where her throwing knives were housed, but she caught herself and pretended to smooth out a wrinkle in her clothes or brush off some imaginary dust instead.

The woman in the middle of the group took a step forward as well, a smirk passing over her face as she nodded to the pair. “I quite agree. I was thinking I would stroll towards the Black Pearl tavern, the rum is very good there.”

Rocinante kept still and silent, having decided that the folded arms posture would be most intimidating if his height wasn’t already doing the trick. He let out a low grunt at the woman’s coded reply.

Aylin gave a curt nod as she took a few more steps toward the group, deciding it was safe enough to proceed. "The Blackburn Syndicate sends their regards. I hear you may be in need of our services in the near future and I'm more than happy to discuss a partnership between our businesses."

The woman spoke first. "That's what we like to hear. I was hoping they would send their most informed associate along to negotiate...we have a lot of questions." She glanced back to the man in the pinstriped suit, as if communicating some sort of message. "Don't we, brother?"

He stepped closer as well, a smirk crawling across his face. “Indeed we do…”

Aylin's first instinct was to take a step backward, but she remained rooted to the spot, her eyes giving no hint of apprehension.

The man in the trench coat spoke next. "Yes, questions. For example, I would first ask about your insurance policies. We have many important dealings within our own organization and timely deliveries are essential. How would you handle a situation in which we fail to receive an expected delivery altogether? Say, an entire cargo ship full of heavy artillery...?"

An expletive escaped Aylin's mouth under her breath. "The Alfredo Family…”

The man in the striped suit smirked even wider. “Did you say something, dearie? It’s rude to mumble in the presence of company, especially those with whom you intend to do business.” The man gripped his hand firmly around the hilt of his sword, his eyes flashing over to his sister’s, the smirk remaining pasted on.

Aylin knew right then that business was dead last on the list of things the Alfredo Family likely wanted from them. The whole arrangement had been an elaborate trap...dragging them out of the Syndicate and isolating them on a roof top...they'd gone scouting around for traps, but a formidable group like the Alfredo Family had no use for such things.

Her hands balled into fists. "What do you want from us?"

The striped man’s smirk turned into a sneer. “Are you daft? We want what’s rightfully ours; what we paid for and never received. I trust you have a good explanation…and if you don’t, well...” He tightened the grip on his sword, unsheathing it by an inch, the metal click echoing across the empty rooftop.

Rocinante tried his best to keep up his stern façade of bodyguard. These people weren’t who they said they were, that much was certain. The name that had fallen from Aylin’s lips confirmed it. The Alfredo Family was not going to take an apology in lieu of the goods they’d purchased. It wasn’t as if reparations hadn’t been made. The Syndicate had refunded their money, but the leader of the Alfredo Family was known to be an incredibly cruel and unforgiving man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted and right anything that he thought had wronged him.

Aylin's eyes narrowed, her fingers twitching as they brushed against the leather pouch strapped to her thigh. "Do I look like I'm carrying two tons of weaponry in my wallet?"

The woman laughed haughtily. "Oh dear me, it's cute that you think anything you do at this point can fix this! No, no. That isn't what this is about. You see, if we let this incident go unpunished, people would start to think it's alright to double-cross the Alfredo Family...and that just won't do..."

The instant Aylin saw the gun in her hand was the moment she let the throwing knife fly. It whizzed through the air, clanging into the firearm and knocking it clean out of the woman's hand. Wasting no time, she hopped several steps backward, calling out to Rocinante, "Go!"

Roci turned on his heel and started a dead run, his footing sure for once in his life. He was ready to dive and roll back into the building; he was only a foot away when the door abruptly slammed in his face. He rebounded off the slab of metal and fell to the ground, rolling over to the side while clutching at his head.

Aylin quickly knelt beside him, grabbing onto one of his arms to help him to his feet, uttering another string of expletives as their situation continued to worsen. Her mind was racing. Someone was blocking the only exit, which left them only with the option of fighting their way out of this mess.

And they were outnumbered.

A disembodied voice drifted in before them just then; eerie, deep and scratchy as if the owner had eaten nothing but sandpaper for the past few decades.

“Going so soon? I had hoped we could stay and chat awhile longer.”

Aylin's mouth went dry, having managed to pull Rocinante into a sitting position. Her eyes widened at the sight of the older man's gaunt features. She hadn't even noticed him. He had simply appeared.

"Don Fettuccine..."

The very fact that the man was here meant business, meant that he was angry beyond belief. Who better to pay than the messengers? She held on to Rocinante's arm tightly. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

“Good, I see introductions won’t be necessary then.” The old man began pacing in front of them, putting a ringed finger to his chin. “My, my, my…it seems the Blackburn Syndicate just believes that a refund was all I wanted…not even a replacement…so these goods just went up and missing did they? No explanation…was an investigation even mounted?” His entire body flattened in that moment, making him a strange two-dimensional figure that no longer even looked human.

He slithered towards the pair before standing back up to his height, raising his now flat hand which blew in the wind, paper thin. “I want answers, and I don’t care how I get them.”

Quicker than their eyes could follow, the man wrapped his flattened body around the two of them, squeezing tightly. “Penne! Anelli! Come tie up these two clowns and bring them back to the ship. Further questioning will be needed.” He squeezed tightly again for effect, causing the two agents to cry out, but their cries were drowned out by the Don’s sinister laugh.

Anelli and Penne did as they were told, rushing forward with thick coils of rope and wrapping them tightly around each agent's wrists and ankles while the Don continued to squeeze the breath out of them and simultaneously crush them together. There were a few loud pops as bones began to crack, dangerously close to snapping in half.

The third mafia member hefted a disoriented Aylin over his shoulder when the Don finally released his grip. As Rocinante fell forward, Penne and Anelli both hoisted him up.

"This guy is enormous! You better use extra rope on him, Penne," Anelli remarked.

Penne snorted in annoyance. “I’m not blind, Anelli, I can see he’s a huge freak!”

The Don was behind him in an instant, pressing a flat hand to the man’s shoulder. “Be careful what you say about freaks, since you’re living in a circus!”

With that, the man disappeared from view, using his strange power no doubt.

Rocinante groaned in pain, clutching one of his arms gingerly to his chest. He wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow morning, he could already feel the soreness setting in. “Lin…” He said weakly, turning his head trying to get a visual on her. “I’m so sorry…”

Aylin gritted her teeth, cracked ribs bouncing atop the shoulder of the trench coat clad man as he made his way down the stairs. She was still working to take air into her lungs, waiting for the black spots to clear from her vision. "Nevermind that," she gasped out, uselessly struggling against her bonds.

The man carrying her let out a snide laugh. "That's a waste of time!! Better just lay there and get ready to die, Missy!"

Aylin growled, managing to swing her legs over and knee him in the nose. A loud 'crack' echoed throughout the stairwell, followed by an angry cry of pain.

"YOU BITCH!!"

"Quit messing around, Bigoli!!" Anelli's sharp voice reprimanded him. "Save the trash talk for the interrogation!" She then groaned with the effort it took to haul Rocinante's legs down the stairs, following after her brother. "I think I got the heavier end!"

“I see how it is. You’re always the victim, aren’t you, Sis? Obviously my end is heavier; it’s got all his organs and his brain.” Penne clucked his tongue as he readjusted his grip on Rocinante. “Of course they’d send a friggin’ giant to this meeting.”

Rocinante groaned in pain as they jostled his broken arm with every step. Penne grinned, gripping it more tightly for a few seconds then chuckling about the strangled cry that the large man emitted.

Aylin's head swam, trying to think of a plan as they were carried out the building and off toward the Alfredo Family's ship. The mobsters took them down dark alleys as not to be seen, and all the laughter and music from the tavern district nearby would have made shouting for help utterly useless even if they'd attempted it. What should they do...? There was no telling what would happen to them once they'd arrived on the ship...likely nothing nice. Don Fettuccine was feared for good reason.

The rest of the trip went by in a blur. Anelli and Penne would make snide remarks to each other now and then, while Bigoli complained about his bleeding nose, though he did laugh raucously once when Penne 'accidentally' knocked Rocinante's head against the corner of a brick building.

Once aboard the ship, the two black market agents were unceremoniously thrown into a cell down in the cargo hold.

Anelli snickered as the iron-barred door slammed shut. "The Don will be here shortly. If I were you, I'd say some prayers. Ask for a quick death, maybe."

With that, she and the other two mobsters disappeared from the room, leaving Aylin and Rocinante lying on the hard floor in mostly darkness.

"Shit..." Aylin maneuvered herself into a sitting position, looking around for her partner. "Rocinante, you okay?"

Rocinante took a few deep breaths, trying not to gasp from the pain it caused him. His head was pounding and his arm felt like it was on fire. “Lin…” He said weakly, “Don’t…don’t worry about me. Are you okay?”

"Nothing to be concerned about," she replied, although he knew from prior incidents how skilled she was at concealing her own pain. Searching her face in the dim lighting, the lines on her forehead gave it away.

He could feel the movement of the ship underneath them, but it was only the regular rocking of the waves. It seemed that the Alfredo Family was staying put in Crescent City for the time being. At least that was one thing they had going for them.

A drop of water fell from the ceiling, landing squarely on Rocinante’s forehead, then again and again. He tried moving away from it, but he couldn’t roll without feeling a shooting pain in his arm so he stayed put. The air was damp, but also tinged with the telltale smell of gunpowder. Down in that dark hold, it was clear that even if the Alfredo Family hadn’t been able to acquire their goods from the Syndicate, they had gotten their weapons.

He gritted his teeth. “Those bastards…I’ll never forgive them for hurting you..."

Aylin pursed her lips, looking around the small cell for anything she might use to her advantage. "Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but if we don't get out of here, it's only going to get worse." She grimaced as she attempted to slide her tied hands beneath her, though no matter how tightly she curled herself up, the rope was tied too snugly and her arms weren't long enough to reach around under her body. "Damn..."

She twisted herself around, trying to get to the pouch still strapped to her thigh. There were a few more throwing knives at her disposal...if she could just grab one... But the action of contorting her body to such a degree caused a sharp, stabbing pain on her side and she bit back a pained cry.

“Lin!” Rocinante wanted to go to her but every movement was filled with pain. “I should’ve tried to attack them….I…” He coughed, his head pounding harder than before and he shut his eyes tightly against the pain, knowing it was only going to get worse. “I’m sorry…I should’ve protected you, that’s the whole reason I’m here right? Blackburn will have my hide for this…maybe never let us do another mission together...”

He was trying to be optimistic, though he was well aware that their chances of making it out of the situation alive were already slim. No one held a grudge like Don Fettuccine Alfredo.

Aylin could only give a weary chuckle at his attempt to lighten the situation. "Don't be sorry. I should've known we'd be walking right into a trap... Scarlet should have known. Blackburn should have known." She frowned. "That's what happens when you're blinded by greed..." With a grunt, she managed to roll herself upright again.

They both froze at the sound of footsteps approaching. Too heavy to be the Don's, the click of leather shoes against wooden planks came closer until the door of the hold was creaking open again.  
Penne strode into the room, followed closely by Anelli.

She spoke first, stopping in front of the cell and placing both hands on her hips. "This is no way to have a conversation with the Don, now is it?" She reached for two chairs nearby, dragging them over to the door. "Let's get you scumbags a little more comfortable."

“Go to hell,” Aylin retorted as Penne carried the chairs into the cell, arranging them next to each other in the center.

He dragged Aylin to her feet and tossed her into the chair as if she weighed nothing. Next, he reached down for her leather pouch and grabbed one of her remaining throwing knives from inside, having seen her take one from there earlier.

“Dearie, that’s my line.” He held the blade against her throat with a smirk, slowing applying pressure until a red line of blood appeared.

Aylin gritted her teeth, making no sound as she remained rigid in the wooden chair.

Anelli clucked her tongue at her twin brother. “You better save some of that fun for the Don.”

Penne pulled back, shooting the woman a look of disdain. “Just because you’re five minutes older than me, you think you can always tell me what to do.”

"No, it's obviously because I'm the only one of us with any sense at all!" Anelli rolled her eyes. "Now hurry up and get the big oaf into the other chair before the Don gets here and sees that we haven't done what he asked of us."

The blonde woman withdrew another length of rope to secure Aylin to her own chair while Penne very begrudgingly hoisted Rocinante off the floor to roughly toss him onto the other one.

Aylin could feel a warmth slowly seeping down her neck, though she tried not to pay it any mind. She stared hard at Anelli, determined to show no fear in the face of these mafia goons. "You Rigatoni sure know how to throw a welcome party, don't you?"

A loud slap resounded as the back of Anelli's hand suddenly met Aylin's cheek, sending her head whipping to the right.

"Don't insult me. The Rigatoni are far beneath me! Penne and I are Underbosses. Don't you dare lump us into the same group as those foot soldiers."

Penne snorted. "Now who’s not saving all the fun for the Don?"

"Shut it!" Anelli growled at her brother. "Do you want to let this worthless piece of trash carry on addressing us incorrectly?"

Aylin's face was hidden by a curtain of messy orange hair, but as she moved to look up, she spat a mouthful of blood at Anelli.

The Underboss shrieked. "How DARE you!!"

“You’re being petty,” Penne scoffed. “It’s not like she’ll be alive that much longer, anyway. At least she knows the name of the Rigatoni enough to fear them.” He cast his glance over at Aylin. “But Anelli is right, we are much worse…”

Roci gave Penne a pained look, his head hanging down. “Why are you doing this? Do you really like being a thug?”

“Didn’t she just say we’re not thugs?! Maybe you WERE right, Sis. We need to teach these morons some manners…” He began to advance toward Rocinante.

“STOP!” The disembodied voice resounded through the hold as the Don suddenly appeared in front of them. “You two shut the hell up. Go back to the main deck with Bigoli, I’m tired of hearing stories about his son.”

Penne immediately backed off of Rocinante and exited the cell. “Sir.” He nodded to the Don as he gestured for his twin sister to join him. “You heard him. Time to be regaled with tales of Pici…” He trailed off rolling his eyes.

The Don stepped slowly into the cell, the long fur coat he wore around his shoulders billowing behind him. He rubbed his hands together in delight at the two people that were seated before him. He began pushing his hands together and flattening them into a round shape until they looked like a pair of cymbals.

“So nice of you all to join me this evening…I trust my associates have make you quite comfortable.” His sandpapery laugh echoed off the walls of the damp wood. “We’re going to have a nice chat, just the three of us…” He clapped his hands together twice, making the two prisoners wince in agony at the loud sound. “So, Blackburn Syndicate, it’s time to find out just what you’re made of…”

Aylin growled back, her ears ringing so much so could barely hear her own voice. "What the hell do you want, Alfredo?" She had a feeling that 'chat' was probably a euphemism for something far less pleasant.

“I was hoping you’d ask that, Miss Wild. Well, I want what any reasonable old gentlemen wants, of course. Money, Wealth, Fame, Prestige, Fear, Respect...and of course…Revenge.” He whispered the last word in a low voice that sent chills down both of their spines before throwing his head back with a raucous laugh.

“So you know, just the simple things in life.” He rubbed his flat hands together, creating a slight ringing sound that increased as he rubbed them faster and faster, at an astonishing speed for a man who looked so thin and frail.

Rocinante cried out in pain and bent over ass blood started trickling from one of his ears.

“Tut tut my son, the best is yet to come. If you’re as tough as you look, a little ‘MUSIC’ surely doesn’t hurt all that much. Come on now, tell me what you think, I’ve been practicing!”

Faster than Aylin could see, the Don back flipped toward Rocinante, flattening himself thin enough to easily reach up to the man’s head and smashed it over and over between his cymbal-like hands.

Rocinante’s head was spinning, he couldn’t hear anything except an incessant ringing. His head lolled downward as blood continued to trickle from both of his ears now. He moaned in pain, knowing that this was only a small taste of what this man could and almost surely would inflict upon them. He had to say something, anything to keep the man focused on him. Rocinante thought that maybe the Don wouldn’t touch Aylin if he could only keep the focus on him. He coughed, trying to make some kind of retort like, ‘Is that all you got?’ but his tongue felt thick and useless in his mouth and a pathetic pained hum was all that emerged.

“HOHOHOHOHO! I had hoped you were tougher for one so tall! Well, appearances are deceiving aren’t they?” He smirked in delight, thinking about how much that turn of phrase applied to him as he slunk over to Aylin like a snake, slithering up behind her, pausing to run his cymbal-shaped hand under her hair. “Lovely color, reminds me of my Cecelia’s hair…” He suddenly yanked down hard on it. “I HATE REMINDERS OF MY CECELIA!!”

She gasped as she felt a chunk of hair roughly rip from her scalp, but quickly pressed her lips together, determined not to utter another sound. Her eyes fixed onto the Don's in a cold glare. She could hear Rocinante's heavy breaths from nearby, injured but conscious at the very least. It seemed the best course of action would be to remain quiet...the Don was volatile and unlikely to be reasoned with.

The Don nearly growled, frustrated that he hadn’t been able to draw a single sound out of the woman. “Tough one, are you? One of those ice queens, I guess…” He began cracking each of his fingers then his joints, horrible popping filling the cell. “I’ve seen worse. They all crack at one point, and my dear, you will be no exception.”

“No…” The weak protest came from the man in the next chair. “Please…d-don’t hurt…her…”

“Ohhhh how SWEET! A chivalrous gesture from the gentle giant. I ought to show him what happens to those who make futile appeals, shouldn’t I, my dear?” He put his flat hand beneath Aylin's chin, forcing her to face him. “So lovely, so like my dear Cecelia…”

He gazed at her for a moment longer before cracking his skull against hers, then flattening his entire arm to wrap tightly around her neck, squeezing in a pulsing rhythm like a heartbeat. “Now tell me...Miss Wild... WHAT. HAPPENED. TO. MY. SHIPMENT?”

“NO!” Roci yelled, struggling against his bonds, but they were far too tight to simply slip out of. He tried moving his chair by jumping across to where Aylin was sitting but only managed to tip himself over onto the ground, hitting his head against the hard, dirtied wood.

Aylin could do nothing but writhe about in the Don's surprisingly iron-like grip, unable to draw a breath, unable to speak even if she'd wanted to. Her eyes squeezed shut, teeth clenched. She had no choice but to wait it out, hold her breath until he deigned to release her. The seconds seemed to drag on and the more of them that passed, the more lightheaded she felt. It was only when she thought she couldn't last any longer that his hand suddenly vanished from around her neck.

She let out a strangled gasp when precious oxygen finally filled her lungs once more. Her eyes snapping open as she gulped down air as if it were her last chance to breathe it in. The dark haze obscuring her vision eventually subsided and finally she leveled another dark look at the Don, a sneer on her lips.

"You want to know what happened to it?" She let out an acerbic chuckle, her voice hoarse from the trauma her trachea had suffered. "Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you a damn thing."

“You’re lying…” He slapped her across the face with his noodle-like hand. “WHO DID YOU GIVE IT TO? ONE OF MY ENEMIES? DID THE BLACKBURN SYNDICATE THINK IT WOULD BE FUNNY? Did you honestly think you would get away scot free after burning The Alfredo Family?!”

The Don laughed louder and longer than before. “Such fools…such fools with whom I will never do business again. You’d best rethink keeping those pretty pink lips sealed, Miss Wild, or you will not be walking away from this ship. Then again, I never said you would in the first place.”

The Don moved over to where Rocinante lay sideways on the floor, still strapped to his chair and began kicking him in the ribs over and over and it became abundantly clear that the shoes he wore were reinforced with steel toes. Rocinante gritted his teeth, grunting with the force of each kick.

Aylin's eyes narrowed as she helplessly looked on, continuing to struggle against her bonds even though it seemed a futile effort. She heard a loud crack, and then another...before she could stop herself, her mouth acted of its own accord, desperate to get him away from her partner. "And who’s Cecelia?! Ex-girlfriend? Probably someone you drove away with your shitty personality, I'm guessing!"

The Don immediately ceased his actions and whirled on one foot to walk back over to Aylin and grab her chin roughly. “Don’t you ever speak her name like that. NOT EVER! You know nothing about her, and what you DO know about me you obviously ignored!” He sneered. He yanked his hand away from her face and aimed a roundhouse kick to her abdomen, knocking her over onto the ground. He stomped on her throat again, applying just enough pressure to cut off her air supply. “You don’t seem very fond of breathing, Miss Wild, and I have to agree. Everything that comes out of your mouth is PURE GARBAGE. FEH!”

He removed his foot and left her gasping. In that moment the Don seemed to morph back into a human shape, as human as a gaunt ghoul of a man could look anyway. He tucked his hands neatly behind his back underneath the fur coat as he looked down his nose at the two fallen Syndicate members.

“It’s been lovely chatting with you this evening so far, but I’m afraid if I stay much longer I’ll be late for dinner. Why don’t you just take this time to…contemplate…your options from here on out. I’ll return after dinner…and if you don’t plan on speaking then, I suggest you speak to whichever miserable deity you believe in to beg for forgiveness before you meet them tonight.”

He turned abruptly on his heel, slamming the steel cell door as hard as he could before locking it and going back up the stairs to the deck.


	7. Enhanced Interrogation

Aylin coughed, spitting something warm from the back of her throat. She was still staring up at the ceiling, trying to catch her breath. The sound of something scraping against the floor caught her attention, followed by movement somewhere beside her. Craning her bruised neck as best she could, she locked eyes with Rocinante as he attempted to edge closer, chair and all.

She wriggled her arms, now pinned beneath the back of her chair, the slats uncomfortably digging into her skin. Her mouth opened and closed a few times but no sound followed. Finally her voice came out in a strangled whisper. "Sorry..."

“Lin…” Rocinante inched closer and closer towards her. He had used his devil fruit powers to create a sound bubble around them so that his movements wouldn’t send the Don or the Underbosses running back downstairs to continue the torture, though he had no idea how much time would pass before the Don returned. He suspected they didn’t have all that long.  
  
He’d also reflected on the fact that it was very possible they wouldn’t be leaving the ship alive.

Rocinante coughed, immediately wishing he hadn’t as pain shot through his abdomen. Each move he made felt like agony, and it was only doubled by the coughing. Nevertheless, he wanted to be near her.  
  
“Why are you apologizing…? He’s… _he’s_ the one who did this.” He coughed again, wincing in response. “You have nothing to be sorry for. They’re the psychopaths.”

She gave him a tiny smile that never reached her eyes, and her brow furrowed. He was a good person, she thought. Not like the others involved in the business. A genuinely kindhearted young man who surely must have fallen in with the wrong crowd of people, and she felt responsible for this mess. It had been her job to lead the mission. She should have known better. Should have anticipated a trap. Should have seen something, _anything_ , that would have indicated they were in danger before it was too late.

Aylin let out a long breath that ended in a wheeze. Her throat still burned, raw, as though she had swallowed shards of glass. It was almost enough to make her forget about her ribs momentarily. She blinked, noting the blood trickling down both sides of his face, the cuts and gashes marring his forehead, before turning her head to stare back at the ceiling.

She swallowed thickly. "We have to find a way out of this...that sick son of a bitch...this isn't over. It can't be..."

Rocinante nodded numbly, his head hanging down. As soon as her gaze was directly elsewhere, he turned his eyes to her. He felt his chest ache with each labored breath she took. They were both nursing cracked ribs, and Rocinante thought they would probably be nursing a few more by the end of the evening. The Don was a cruel man, just as his reputation had described.  
  
Rocinante couldn’t help feeling bothered by the fact that Aylin appeared to be blaming herself for their current situation. He wished that he could shoulder some of the burden. As far as he was concerned, there was no way she could have known what would happen. He wished that he could spare her even a second of the pain she was in, wanting to take it all on himself.   
  
“Lin,” he said after a moment, “we will. We _will_ find a way out. I’ve gotten out of worse scrapes than this…trust me. We’ll figure it out!” He gave her the biggest grin he could manage without hurting too badly.

Aylin managed a hoarse chuckle. "Worse than being trapped in Don Fettuccine's cargo hold and about to be tortured to death? I don't know, this is pretty tough to beat."

“You’d be surprised…” A brief flash of a memory entered his mind. A crowd holding weapons and yelling at three figures pinned to a stone wall, arms spread wide as they were being jeered at and tortured. The tear-stained face of a man who only wanted his children to know a life of kindness and humanity. The shouts of an enraged boy, his sociopathic nature driving him a step closer toward the tyrant he would one day become...

His face was so solemn in that moment that Aylin was actually taken aback, and she thought that he was right; she probably _would_ be surprised...especially given the fact that she still didn't know him all that well, even as close as they had become. There they were, trapped like rats, about to die and what they knew about each other's personal lives could barely fill a thimble.

‘What a terrible way for friends to die,’ she thought to herself.

It was probably what prompted her admission in the moments that followed.

Her eyes remained trained on the ceiling, absently counting the cobwebs strung about here and there. Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper as she said, "I have a daughter, you know... There are...still things I have to do. Things I have to make right. No matter what...dying right here in this hellhole is not an option."

There was a sharp intake of breath from the man. “You…you do? A daughter…Lin, that’s…” He paused for a moment, stunned by her confession. A million questions popped into his head, but instead he just said, “Tell me…tell me about her. Please?”

Aylin met his eyes once more, a small smile on her lips as she witnessed his reaction. She swallowed, willing the burn in her throat to subside, but she could feel it swelling as she passed air back and forth. "Well, I...I haven't seen her since she was five years old. A lot could have changed since then...but even as a little squirt, she was always smart. I know everyone thinks they have the smartest kid, but mine is definitely a sharp one. Had a snappy reply for almost everything. Perfected the eye-roll at two years old...heh. She'll be eleven this year..." She let out a sigh, unable to keep the regret from bleeding into her words. "I've missed so much. I'm sure she probably hates me. No-good mom who's never around." She gave a half-hearted laugh. "Couldn't blame her for it, really."

“Lin…no. Don’t…don’t say that. No one hates their own mother. She…she probably Ms.es you just as much as you Ms. her.” He just listened to the sound of their ragged breaths in the otherwise silent air for a minute or two. He felt happy and sad at the same time. She was confiding in him, and about something that she no doubt found extremely painful. She’d only brought it up now that they were on the brink of death, but he couldn’t help but feel pleased and even honored that she’d told him.

Aylin couldn't meet his eyes, though she could very well imagine how they must look. Sympathetic and full of pain for her own situation. Those eyes that were ready to forgive anything, to believe the best of her and she wasn't so sure that she deserved that much.

"This isn’t a life I ever want to expose her to,” she explained. “That's why I..." She trailed off all of a sudden, closing her eyes as if to stave off a wave of unbidden emotion, bittersweet memories and longing. She swallowed again. "I left her. I had to. I can't...risk anyone finding out about her. I don't know what they would do, or how they might use her against me..."

Rocinante listened to every word, nodding along and making a noise of agreement. Another small silence passed between them until he said, “Then…you did the right thing. What you did was putting her first. She may not understand, or maybe she does…she might be mad…kids can be irrational, but so can adults. Whatever the reason, you did the right thing. I…I bet you sacrificed everything for her. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” He felt fresh tears pricking at his eyes upon this realization, and he continued to speak even as his voice wavered, “And you probably don’t get any recognition from the outside world for it, but you know…it was a brave thing to do. A hard thing to do…”

He could definitely appreciate that kind of sacrifice. His own parents, although present in his life until their untimely deaths, had made a huge sacrifice because they wanted their children to see the world as it truly was, and for all of them to become better people. Rocinante grimaced at the fact that they’d only been half successful, but that half would definitely try as hard as it could to bring about equilibrium.

Meanwhile Aylin had said nothing, only giving him the barest hint of a nod. She had kept so much of her own life a secret for so long that in a way, it felt a relief to finally confide in someone else. Still, she was certainly no hero or martyr.

The next time she spoke, she made a point to steer the conversation elsewhere. "And what about you...? Why are you really here?"

Rocinante felt his throat turn dry. Of course she would ask about that. But how could he tell her? Compared to her reason for working in the black market, his might sound like a simple thirst for revenge. It wasn’t…but how could she know that? Would she trust his word enough to know he wasn’t really just out for revenge and wasn’t simply exaggerating? And if he told her, he’d have to tell her about the deaths of his parents. So many painful memories, so many holes in his life that he’d only _just_ learned to live with.

He bit his lip, holding his breath for a few seconds before letting it out long and slow. What if these were their last hours, even moments alive together? Telling her wouldn’t really hurt, nor would it change anything.  
  
“I’m…on a mission. It’s personal. There’s someone I need to stop, no matter what the cost…my br—”

Rocinante was abruptly cut off by the sound of someone descending the stairs again. He didn’t know how much time had passed since their first beating, but it seemed like the Don was making good on his word to come back and continue the torture after dinner.  
  
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath as the figure got closer. The door was flung open and the sandpapery laugh started up again, the Don’s tall and thin shadow falling over the two in the dim lighting of the hold.

“I trust you’re both comfortable,” the Don said with a smirk. “Looks like you’ve had plenty of time to REST and reconsider…”

Aylin's mouth became a thin line, unable to ignore the feeling of her heart sinking in her chest. She spared one last, lingering glance at Rocinante. If he was afraid at all, he didn't show it. She had to admire that about him, at least...for as compassionate as he could be, he was more than capable of holding his own in a tough situation. She was a little surprised to find herself drawing some strength from that steadfastness of his.

With some effort, she lifted her head enough to see over the seat of the chair that had been obscuring her view of the Don. "I don't know about that. I do have a few complaints regarding the manner in which you treat your guests."

The Don chuckled sinisterly. “I’ll be sure to have a word with my staff. Now…have the two of you thought about the questions I asked earlier? Are you feeling a little more willing to comply now? Hmmm?” The man moved imperceptibly fast, an illusion his devil fruit powers helped perpetuate. He flicked open a butterfly knife, pressing it firmly beneath Aylin’s chin. “Let’s continue our little chat, shall we?”

Aylin glowered back at him, feeling the cold metal against her flesh. She wanted to tell him exactly where he could stick that knife, but that wouldn’t aid in buying her and Rocinante any extra time. And they needed that time to think, to figure out a means of escape. He had sounded so confident when he'd proclaimed they would find a way out of their predicament, and she had to wonder if he really believed that or if he was just trying to make her feel better.

Either way, it couldn't hurt to trust him a little.

After a long pause, she replied in a bold tone, "I forgot the question."

A low hiss echoed in the hold as the Don yanked the knife away from Aylin’s chin, leaving a deep red mark there.  He began flipping the butterfly knife open and closed with swift, fluid movements. He walked around the two of them in a wide circle then ended up standing over Rocinante.

“Well, allow me to jog your memory.” He flipped the knife a few more times before stabbing it straight into Rocinante’s thigh.

Rocinante gasped, the pain taking his breath away. He gritted his teeth to keep from crying out, but the Don only slithered over him with that freakish power of his and then began twisting the knife in short bursts. Rocinante let out a pained grunt, sweat beading on his forehead as he tried hard not to writhe and make things worse.   
  
The Don appeared unsatisfied. “Hmm, I’m hearing a lot of noise, but no real answers. What do you say, Ms. Wild?”

Aylin's face was a mask of horror. She'd expected the Don to hurt her, but she'd clearly underestimated him. Her eyes frantically moved from Rocinante's face to the knife slowly carving up his leg. He was strong, she knew that, but still she couldn't stop herself from yelling out, "Stop!! He doesn't know anything!"

“Oh really? Because his silence seems awfully suspicious to me. I think you both know a hell of a lot more than you’re letting on.  My patience is beginning to wear thin…”

The Don yanked the knife from where it was embedded in Rocinante’s leg, flinging the blood off and then wiping the blade on the larger man’s shirt. He flipped the knife a few times and then snapped it shut, tossing it across the room like a child who was tired of an old toy. He began flattening himself again, more slowly this time as if to make sure they could see it. It was a strange sight to behold; a human making himself so thin that he appeared cartoonish and made of paper. 

In that snake-like way, the papery form of the Don slithered beneath and around Rocinante, capturing him in an anaconda-like grasp. “I noticed those broken ribs of yours. I think perhaps you’d like a matching set…”

Aylin clenched her teeth, straining against the rope bonds. Even if she told him what she knew of his shipment, she doubted he would believe her. He wasn't planning on letting them live, anyway. All she could do was try to stall him.

The Don tightened his hold and there was another muffled crack. Rocinante was making a valiant effort to remain stoic, but she could tell by the way his eyes were squeezed shut and his jaw was set that he was in a lot of pain.

How much longer could this go on?

She shut her eyes and grimaced before yelling out, "Okay! Stop! I'll tell you whatever you want to know!"

The Don was instantly at her side, a self-satisfied smirk pasted across his face. He was rubbing his hands together, flattening them out in that freakish way, the same way they had been in the first torture session he had put them through.

“Had a change of heart, did you? Let’s hope you’ve got some good intel, lest at least one of you leave in pieces…” He stepped behind her and effortlessly pulled her chair upright in one swift motion. Then he leaned over, breathing down her neck as he held a flat hand on each side of her head. “Well, let’s hear it, Ms. Wild…”

Aylin stared straight ahead, trying to ignore the threat of impending brutality. "Your shipment. It was stolen by the group of mercs we hired to help us retrieve it. We put a price on their heads afterward and had them hunted down like animals. I imagine your cargo is sitting at the bottom of the ocean with the fish right now..."

The Don snorted in disgust. “Well isn’t that lovely, the company that I TRUST with all my shipments sees fit to just SHOOT DOWN THE MEN WHO STOLE MY MERCHANDISE. You know I have my guns custom made, don’t you? You KNOW I have people that I had to LET DOWN because of your little MERC MISHAP. No honor among thieves, surely, but THAT’S NOT THE WAY I RUN MY FAMILY…”

The Don began pacing, his flat hands folded behind his back. “I’ve already told you a refund isn’t sufficient…so what else does the Blackburn Syndicate plan to do to make up for this? HMMMMM?” One second he was behind her and the next, his flattened head had slithered over her shoulder as he slid down to the floor like a long piece of ribbon. He sprang back up just as quickly, striking up like a snake and smashing her head between his hands.

Aylin felt an explosion of pain upon impact. It rattled her entire body. It left her ears ringing and her world spinning.

“NO!” Rocinante managed to yell from his spot on the floor, but he was unable to do anything to help. It seemed like more of him was broken than not, and this was definitely not the easy open-and-shut schmoozing mission that the Syndicate had thought it would be.

Aylin had wanted the Don’s attention, and now that she had it, she was determined to keep him away from her partner. So she replied, "You want five-star treatment? Order weapons from a legitimate company. People don't do business with us because of our reputation for stellar customer service." She eyed him through blurred vision and managed a scornful smirk. "We're the black fucking market, you origami idiot."

The Don froze. “WHAT DID YOU CALL ME? Listen here, you little bitch, you know damn good and well that the organization I run is just as ‘legitimate’ as your damned black market! We’re ALL illegal according to all those high ranking NOBLES in the world,” he sneered, spitting the word ‘nobles’ as if it were a bitter fruit.

He spun on one leg, the other whipping out like a long wet noodle and becoming longer and longer until he was satisfied with its length. Kicking the long leg forward, he wrapped it tightly around her neck and then lifted her off the ground, curling his body inward as he did so, winding tighter and tighter in preparation for his next attack.

“I would rather die a thousand deaths, I would rather sleep with the fishes, I would rather EAT THE SAND AT THE BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN before I did business with a ‘LEGITIMATE’ company run by those pompous, arrogant, sneering, greedy, uppity FOOLS!”

In one swift motion, the Don uncoiled himself, flinging Aylin across the room and sending her crashing against the wall. A loud ‘crack’ echoed throughout the room as he did so. Part of the chair she was strapped to splintered upon impact. Her head bounced against the floor as she landed sideways in a heap, her equilibrium shaken from all the spinning.

“HA! With that flashy name I gave the Syndicate over the phone, I thought that surely they would send their best. Instead I get this weak, mismatched pair. Hohoho, but their bones crack just like any other…” He cracked his knuckles for affect as he began advancing toward Aylin’s prone body.

Rocinante moaned weakly from behind him, but all he could really do was turn his head and watch helplessly. His fingers twitched, trying to get some kind of grip on the floor so he could push himself up to no avail. The sound of his labored breathing filled the air as the Don wound up another attack on his female counterpart.

From across the room just then came a light rapping on the door of the hold. After an annoyed "WHAT?!" from the Don, the door opened just enough for Anelli to poke her head inside.

"Don Fettuccine, my deepest apologies for interrupting, but...Orzo is on your den den mushi and he says there's a, err...situation in Soba. He insists that it's urgent."

The Don snarled in a feral manner, the flattened form he was currently in giving his appearance an even more inhuman look. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, and his body appeared to inflate back to that of his normal emaciated form.

“This better be more like LIFE OR DEATH rather than URGENT in order to interrupt one of my ‘meetings’…” He exited the room, slamming the door shut so hard that the hinges rattled, and muffled echoes of his voice yelling something about an heir could be heard as he ascended the stairs to the deck.

A silence fell over the hold once more.

Aylin coughed, still trying to catch her breath after it had been knocked clean out of her. She spat another mouthful of blood. The Don would be back eventually, be it a few minutes or a couple of hours. If they were going to do something, the time to act was now.

With a grunt, she began to slowly wriggle out of the broken chair; its legs had broken off during the Don's enraged attack, allowing the binds to become loose. The task was exhausting in her current state, but finally her shoulder hit the floor one last time and she was able to roll herself away from her splintered prison.

She had to get them out of there. This had been _her_ responsibility. She couldn't fail. Aylin tried again to reach for the pouch on her thigh, twisting her body to a painful degree, doing her best to ignore it as her fingers groped the leather.

"Shit...almost got it..." Her cracked ribs protested, but she persisted, managing to work two fingers inside the bag and grasp the cold metal inside. She withdrew it rather clumsily, dropping it onto the floor with a gasp, though she was able to grab it up again and began to inch her way toward Rocinante nearby.

Rocinante’s eyes focused on the red-haired woman wriggling her way toward him. “Lin…no, no. If you’re free, you should…” He paused to cough. “You should get out of here, don’t worry about me…” He knew damn well she would never leave him there alone, but he felt he should still give her the option. When she ignored him in favor of continuing her task, he gave her a weak smile. “You’re so stubborn, Lin…but you know, I bet you’ll be the reason that we…survive this…”

She still said nothing, instead saving all of her energy for the action. Aylin rolled herself behind him and immediately set to work sawing at the ropes that held him to the chair. It was a few minutes before his binds finally fell to the floor, allowing him to roll away from the chair as best he could.

Aylin followed after him. "Hang on...I'll get the other ones off you..."

After a few more strained minutes, Rocinante was finally free of all the ropes and managed to sit upright, carefully folding his legs. He took the knife from her and began sawing at the ropes that bound her.

In a low voice, he said, “I’m activating my calm spell on both of us now. As soon as you’re free, we’ll be able to hobble off of this damn ship and back to our own before anyone’s the wiser…"

Rocinante’s mind roiled with anxiety. This couldn’t be the end of the line for him; there were still so many things he had to do. And he couldn’t let Aylin die either, not now that he knew she had a daughter whom she was providing for back home. A daughter she’d given up everything for.

This _had_ to work. They’d been caught off guard, which had led to their current state, but the Don wasn’t the only one with powers…

Aylin didn't feel any different once he'd used his ability to silence the both of them, though she did notice a moment later that nothing either of them did made a single sound. She still felt his hands tugging at the rope binding her wrists together, but couldn't hear the knife cutting through them.

Just a few moments longer and they would be free. The Don hadn't even bothered to lock their cell door behind him, so it was just a matter of sneaking past his subordinates. She felt a swell of hope...

...which died an instant later when she and Rocinante picked up the sounds of footsteps approaching from the stairwell. Both their heads snapped toward the door, each muttering an unheard curse under their breath.

Voices drifted into the room from outside.

"...don't even really want to go in the first place," a female voice was complaining, as if setting foot in a torture chamber was mundane as a trip to the market. "He throws the most boring dinner parties and my girls don't even like that rude boy of his to begin with! You've seen the way Pici picks on Rotelle!"

The eye roll was audible in Penne’s voice. “You know it’s not like we can say no. We’re all in this ‘family’ together, remember? At least you’ve got your own children and you don’t have to constantly babysit the Don’s heir…”

The sound of a hand touching the door was heard, but after grasping at the knob, the owner of the hand paused.

“Don’t look at me like that Anelli, you know the reason I don’t have any kids of my own. You know damn good and well.”

They heard Anelli huff as she replied, "I do, of course I do. But that was a long time ago. You know mother would want you to be happy..."

“A long time ago? Tch! To me, the pain feels fresh every day. I’m never going to be happy. I’ve accepted that; it’s my lot in life.” His hand gripped the doorknob more tightly.

Anelli's voice sounded softer. "Brother..." After a moment, she seemed to give up and change the subject. "Well, luckily you've still got me. And your nieces, who you never spend any time with, might I add!”

“I’ll spend time with them when we get back! I told you I don’t have much time since I’m constantly babysitting HIS child…”

“I’ve heard that before,” she said, a remark that was met with a scoff. “Now come on, let's get this over with so we can go back to our dinner. Surely they're already dead. I don't hear any groaning in there."

Penne’s hand dropped away from the door as it creaked open, and the two of them walked inside. “We can only hope they’re dead…too bad we got stuck going down here. By the time we get back up to the galley, the old bastard will have thrown all the food on the floor…”

Anelli hummed in agreement and crossed her arms, taking stock of the picture before her. "Hmm. They might really be dead. Maybe you should go and make sure..."

Aylin and Rocinante lay across from each other, having hit the floor the moment they heard Penne's hand at the door and thankful for the fact that even their unsteady wheezing had been silenced. Aylin's eyes discreetly darted sideways, carefully monitoring the mobsters before she stared into her partner's eyes, soundlessly mouthing the words, "Not yet."

Penne snorted as he made his way to the cell. “Bossy as ever, sis…huh, look, the old man didn’t even lock the door this time. I guess he was pretty confidant he’d beaten them to within an inch of their lives.”

The underboss chuckled darkly as he stepped inside, surveying the mayhem and splintered wood. The Don had surely done some good work here today; he surveyed the two figures on the floor, prone, and for a moment he really thought they might be dead. But upon further inspection, their chests were moving up and down in short, weak breaths.

Still, it was about as quiet as death. How odd.

Penne peered down at Rocinante, leaning closer to him and then reared his foot back to deliver a swift kick to the man’s ribs. Rocinante immediately cringed and his mouth opened in a gasp but nothing, not even a peep, came out. Even his movement didn’t make any noise.

“What the HELL?” Penne was about to turn around to face his sister when he felt a strong hand wrap around his ankle and yank him to the ground.

"Penne!" Anelli shouted in surprise as she watched her twin fall.

“OW!” Penne’s head bounced off the wood as the silent Rocinante took the upper hand. The man grinned down at Penne as he lifted his hand, snapping his fingers once and uttering a single word that Penne couldn’t hear.

Anelli took a moment to gape in bewilderment as every sound around them seemed to disappear completely; the creaking floorboards above, the muffled waves from outside, even the voices of a few Rigatoni above that she'd completely tuned out until then.

Suddenly realization hit her as she cried out, "A devil fruit user, I see! Well, that little trick won't be helping you much! GET UP, PENNE! I don't know how he got untied, but we need to fix this before the Don comes back!" She marched into the cell and without hesitation, she aimed a swift kick at the blond man's kneecap. But just before she could land the hit, something knocked her planted foot out from under her and with a gasp, she found herself hitting the floor.

Aylin rolled away after the attack, searching for the knife nearby. She'd wouldn't be of much use until she could get free. Where the hell had it slid off to amidst the panic?

Penne groaned, having fallen on top of his sheathed sword. The hard wood of the scabbard pressed into his leg, which was already beginning to bruise. He scrambled to his feet, reaching for the hilt, but Rocinante tripped him again with his outrageously long limbs and yanked the sword away from its place on Penne’s belt.

“YOU ASSHOLE!” Penne lunged for him, only to hit the floor as one of Rocinante’s large feet kicked him back.

Rocinante dangled the sword above the mobster’s head. He was such a large man that the weapon looked like a stick in his hand. “Hey…this is pretty nice! Did you have this custom made?”

“You’re making small talk in the middle of a fight? ANELLI!” Penne yelled for his twin to come and back him up.

Anelli rolled over and leapt to her feet, shooting her brother an angry glare. "Oh, honestly!! He's just one big oaf!”

Her hands momentarily vanished into the long trench coat she wore, and when they reappeared she was holding two long daggers, both blades curved in the shape of an ‘S’. The Don would likely be angry that they had taken the liberty of harming _his_ hostage, but if she didn’t do something then things were about to spiral out of control.

“Although,” she continued, “it seems like we’ve underestimated them after all! Still got some fight left in you, is that right?” Twirling the daggers fluidly with nimble fingers, she twisted her body and struck, quick as a serpent.

“ARGH!!” Rocinante felt the sting of both blades as they sank into his hip, although he managed to twist out of the way in time to avoid any major injuries.

Anelli did not let up; the moment she regained her footing, she pivoted and threw herself into the next assault, forcing the tall blond to continue evading the strikes, waiting for an opening. His only advantage at that point was his height, which made it difficult for Anelli to land any critical hits.

Still, each move sent a fresh wave of pain through Rocinante’s body as strikes and stabs peppered his long legs, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before her twin rejoined the fight. He had to keep them occupied; Aylin was still tied up and needed more time. It was the only thing that prevented him from collapsing. Every injury that had been inflicted on him during the past few hours felt like exquisite agony, and he surmised it was pure adrenaline keeping him standing now.

Penne growled from behind him, finding his footing, though still unarmed as the tall man had kept ahold of his custom weapon. He made eye contact with his twin, and Anelli’s face split into a grin as they began moving in tandem; in a way that almost looked like a dance. Rocinante let his guard down for a split second, which was more than long enough for Penne to hoist his sister upwards in a spinning aerial attack that knocked the wind out of him.

Penne’s sword fell to the ground with a loud, metallic clang, halfway unsheathing as it spun on the wooden floor. The green-haired man was quick to swipe it up in one fluid movement, shoving the scabbard quickly into his belt.

The fight went on this way for another few minutes; Penne and Anelli working together to weaken the tall blond, who did his very best to protect his vitals while his legs continued to become marred with gashes and cuts. He stumbled, out of breath and feeling faint as from blood loss, determined to keep the attention on him. But despite his best intentions, one foot slipped beneath him as he leaned backward to avoid Anelli’s spinning blades.

“Ugh! Shit!” He fell flat on his back, and certainly to his doom, eyes shut tightly. Surely they would be on him in half a second… But the sharp sting of Anelli’s blades sinking into his body never came. Instead, Penne’s foot caught Rocinante’s side, and the blond realized all of a sudden that the mobster had tripped over his prone body.

Penne went sailing over Rocinante’s head, losing his grip on Anelli, who fell unceremoniously to the floor. Rocinante might have marveled a bit more at the fact that his clumsiness had done him a service for once in his life, had the situation not been so dire.

Meanwhile Aylin was fumbling with the knife, slicing flesh a few times in her haste to cut the ropes. The two mobsters were working together to take down her partner, and although she knew that Rocinante was strong, he was also outnumbered and badly injured. He wouldn't last much longer.

"PENNE!!"

There came a loud crack just then. Aylin heard the shrill scream from Anelli and looked up just in time to see Penne crash through the wall and clear into the next room.

Rocinante’s leg was extended from his spot, still prone on the floor, having placed a well-timed kick after Penne had gotten up. A pained smile was on Rocinante’s face as he lowered his leg and then attempted to right himself before the other man recovered.

He didn't see Anelli reaching for something at her hip.

Aylin's eyes widened just then. Her mouth opened to shout a warning, but no sound escaped. Rocinante's calm spell... She frantically worked to free herself from the fraying ropes, helplessly watching on as Anelli withdrew a firearm and aimed it at the back of Rocinante's head.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Anelli had her finger on the trigger. Rocinante was just turning away from the wall.

Aylin felt the last rope snap as her arms sprung free.

Before she could even pause to think, the throwing knife was leaving her hand. It went whizzing across the room, piercing flesh. Blood spattered against the worn wooden wall. The gun immediately fell from Anelli's outstretched hand, her eyes wide in shock as she suddenly struggled to breath around the blade buried in her throat.

The room became eerily quiet, save for the sound of Anelli rasping for breath as she clutched gingerly at the open wound in her neck and struggled to remain standing.

Rocinante stepped back in shock, his head snapping toward Aylin, seeing her arm still outstretched. His mouth fell open as his eyes darted between the two women. Seconds later, Penne came barreling back through the hole in the wall.

“YOU ASSHOLE!” He yelled at Rocinante as he raised his striped blade. He was about to rush the tall man when he realized something was wrong. His eyes traveled to the form of his twin sister, who was starting to sway on her feet.

Penne dropped his sword and rushed to Anelli as she lost all balance. He caught her just before she went crashing to the floor. Eyes wide and full of panic, Penne brushed the hair back from her damp forehead. “Sis…no, no, look, you’re going to be alright! Sis, I…”

The blood…she was losing so much blood. It was everywhere, and it only kept coming.

He looked at the blade buried in her neck, wondering if he should dare pull it out. “Anelli…”

Her bulging, frantic eyes met his as she emitted a gurgling wheeze from her damaged airway. "P-Pe...nne..." A white hand gripped Penne's collar, now soaked and stained crimson.

“You’re gonna be fine, Anelli…no, no…please stay with me…PLEASE!!!” He clutched her to his chest desperately as his eyes welled up with tears of grief. She shouldn’t go like this.

Not like this…

Aylin was the first one to snap out of her frozen state of shock. She blinked, forcing her gaze away from the siblings. She and Rocinante would only have a few minutes while Penne was distracted. There was no time to dwell on it; if they were to escape, then now was their only chance.

She pushed herself up, quickly reaching for her last knife and freeing her ankles from the final rope that bound her. Staggering to her feet, she quickly hobbled over to her partner, grabbing his sleeve. When he made eye contact, she nodded toward the door and gave his arm an indicative tug. Rocinante followed Aylin as quickly as was possible in his current state. She didn't need to tell him that things were about to get even uglier, and that it would be best if they were gone before Penne sounded the alarm.

Anelli was dying. Rocinante was more than a little shocked that Aylin had acted so quickly to make that judgment call…but if she hadn’t, it would have been him lying there in a pool of blood instead.

The escape itself didn't give them much trouble. Making no sound, they were easily able to bypass the Rigatoni standing guard nearby, knocking unconscious a few that stood directly in their path. Aylin seemed to be on autopilot, completely focused on their one single task. They darted off the ship unseen, concealed by the shadows of the night and silenced by Rocinante's devil fruit ability. He gave her furtive glances every so often as they hurried along back to their own ship on the other side of town, though her eyes remained trained on the path ahead.

Once they had arrived back at the place they had docked, he palmed her shoulder to remove the calm spell so that she could give orders to the men waiting on their ship.

The sooner they set sail, the better.

oOo

Back in the hold, the tears had begun to spill from Penne’s eyes. He’d already lost so much. Did he have to lose _her_ , too? She wasn’t going to last much longer. He gulped thickly, feeling as though his heart was caught in his throat.   
  
“Don’t go,” he whispered to his twin, feeling selfish and chagrined. She couldn’t answer, not with what that WENCH had done to her. “I love you, sis,” he choked out as he buried his face in her shoulder. His entire body began to shake with the sobs that came freely.

Anelli's glassy eyes attempted to focus on her brother's trembling form. She blinked slowly, her cheeks gradually losing color as the blood drained from her body. Her words were on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't speak them. As the seconds ticked by, she became weaker, unable to hold her head up any longer. She slumped against Penne. Eventually her grip on his shirt loosened until finally her hand fell to her side and stilled forevermore.

She was gone.

Penne felt the change immediately; it was as if a piece of him had been torn out, leaving a gaping hole that nothing could ever fill.  He continued to cling to her lifeless body, shaking her a bit even as the hole in his heart grew wider and wider.

Things had changed. Changed forever. And there were two little girls back home who were now left without a mother.

He screamed and screamed until he was hoarse, still clinging to the physical part of his sister that was left behind after the life had drained away. Those two responsible would pay…he’d make sure of it. Penne laid Anelli’s body gently on one of the surfaces that wasn’t littered with frayed rope or splintered bits of wood and closed her eyes with his fingers, removing the blade that had ended her life.

Why hadn’t anyone come? Why was it so damned quiet down there?

Rage and grief filling him to the absolute brim, Penne stormed up the stairs to report to the Don.

This wasn’t over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back with a new chapter! Apologies for the long delay. There were a few kinks to work out with this one but we're quite happy with the outcome. Our main characters, though, not so much! The Don is a real bastard, isn't he? If you'd like to read more about him and a few others mentioned in this chapter, they are the main villains for an arc in our other fanfic, "Strawhat Chronicles: The Untold Voyages." 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! We really love feedback, so if you have a thought, we would love to hear it! :)


	8. Just Between Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone would like to see what Aylin looks like... http://fav.me/d8r6xv8

At the urging of Aylin and Rocinante, the sobering crewmen of the ship had sprung into action and prepared to set sail in record time. Minutes later, the ship’s sails caught a nice breeze which served to propel them at a quicker pace out to sea and away from Crescent City.

The goal was to put as much distance between them and the Don's warship as possible.

Aylin remained out on the deck long after the crew collectively decided that the Don's ship was not actively pursuing them and deemed it safe to return inside. Her fingers gripped the railing tightly, lips pursed as she stared off into the night, cool air nipping at her cheeks and tossing her hair about. She was so deep in thought that she failed to notice the heavy footsteps approaching from behind.

A large hand landed gently on her shoulder, causing her body to tense up.

“Hey…”

It was Rocinante. Of course it was, even though the man could barely move he’d still come to her. She relaxed only slightly and spared him a brief sidelong glance, though remained silent.

“Lin,” Rocinante tried again, “are you…are you alright?”

For a long moment, she didn't answer, continuing to stare out into the vast darkness. When she finally turned to face him, the first thing she noticed was that he’d been bandaged nearly head to toe, resembling some sort of mummy. His broken arm was tucked against his chest in a sling and smaller bandages covered a few gashes on his cheek and forehead. The second thing she noticed was the way his large brown eyes stared down at her with such concern and honest compassion.

Once again, she found herself thinking that he certainly was an oddity within the likes of the Blackburn Syndicate.

A small sigh escaped her lips and she forced the words out. "I'm fine."

His brow crinkled in worry. “They said you refused medical treatment… You’re just as hurt as I am, Lin. Please…”

Aylin shook her head, her eyes betraying no emotion. "I'll live." She swallowed thickly, her throat still burning from the array of assaults from the Don. Her grip on the railing tightened and a slight frown tugged at her lips as she set her sights back on the darkness in the distance.

“Lin…” Rocinante squeezed her shoulder with his good hand, moving forward to lean against the railing so that their heads were at a more even level. A minute or two of silence passed between them, during which nothing but the wind hitting the sails and the water slapping against the bottom of the boat could be heard. He leaned closer, gently bumping her shoulder and nearly losing his balance in the process. “Hey…please just talk to me. What’s wrong?”

There was another long pause as Aylin let the question hang in the air. Just when Rocinante thought that he probably wasn't going to get an answer, she let out a long breath.

"That woman...Anelli..." Aylin stared down at her hands, still bloodied from the ordeal. Most of it was her own, but nevertheless served as a stark reminder of the events that had transpired. "I didn't plan it...didn't even think, really...I..." She swallowed again, inhaling a deep breath of fresh air. "There was no time. I keep telling myself..." Her lips gave a subtle twitch and one of her hands moved to her mouth, as if dragging her fingers down her face would serve to stop the impulse. "I know...this kind of thing, it happens...it's not the first time I've had to..." She bit down on her lip and for the barest second, Rocinante could hear a distinct crack in her voice as she continued, "But she was...she had _kids_..."

Rocinante was stunned momentarily as he realized that she had actually really been thinking about this; she hated the fact that she’d killed someone and she was clearly regretting it, dealing with the consequences of her actions. They didn’t affect her directly…but she actually cared about the fact that the woman had a family back home, despite the fact that she’d been an enemy.

The blond man felt his eyes mist over at the thought. In a way, it made him happy to see more of Aylin’s human side, and the fact that she cared so much served to confirm for him that she was actually a good person. Escort, Negotiator, Bookkeeper…those were merely job titles. Rocinante had no doubt that Don Fettuccine Alfredo didn’t feel one shred of remorse about the pain and damage he’d inflicted upon the two of them.

But Aylin…

He shifted his weight, sliding his good arm around her shoulders and squeezing lightly. “Look, I’m not going to tell you that it’s okay or that everything is going to _be_ okay. I know it’s not that simple. But if you hadn’t done what you did…well, you’d be bringing me home in a bag right now. Or hell, you might’ve been in that bag _with_ me…”

Another brief silence passed between them and he felt her relax almost imperceptibly against him, though she still didn’t say a word.

“Hey… I…” He swallowed thickly. “I know what it’s like to lose your parents. Not just one, but…but both. It’s something that stays with you forever…something that paints a tone into your life. Something that even when you’re not thinking about it, you’re thinking about it. It’s permanent. But people are resilient. Survivors. Pain and grief can either break someone or make them stronger. It’s up to them to decide. Life’s not fair and we definitely don’t get to pick what happens to us. The only thing we can control is how we react to it.”

She gave a slight nod, somewhat surprised by the wisdom behind his words. She'd had no idea he'd experienced such things. She pulled away slowly, her head hanging down so that a curtain of hair hid her face.

"I know...but that's just it..." Her jaw clenched and it was clear that she was doing her best to keep herself together, recalling the conversation they had overheard while still tied up in the hold. "She was bad news, no question, but her daughters are innocent. They didn't deserve what happened." She shook her head, a curse slipping from under her breath. "What would _my_ kid think...? I'm no better than the danger I'm trying to keep her from..." Her shoulders tensed and she took a step back when he attempted to move closer, her voice becoming smaller. "I'm fine. I just need a minute."

"Lin…” Big wet tears began rolling down his face, knowing that she was trying to hide how much this had hurt her and trying to keep it all bottled up inside. “Hey…come here…come here…” He stepped closer to her, bending down so that he was on his knees as he opened up his one good arm to her. “Use…use my shoulder if you need to.”

Aylin shook her head, her body going rigid as she turned her back to him. She intended to hobble elsewhere, to take exactly sixty seconds to collect herself and then resume acting like the leader she was supposed to be during this mission.

She got about one step when a strong hand gripped her wrist and gently tugged her backward, the momentum causing her to swing around enough for him to see the tears welling up in her eyes.

One of her hands clapped over her mouth, soundlessly.

“It’s okay…you don’t have to hold it in…” He pulled her closer, and for once she didn’t resist. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, Lin… You’re only human and you’re doing the best you can.” His voice was soft and he hoped she knew how sincere he was.

Aylin relented almost immediately, leaning forward until her head rested against his shoulder. He was her closest friend, after all. Probably her _only_ friend. She could at least allow herself to take a bit of comfort from him. Her shoulders trembled, and a sniffle was the only noise she made aside from a few shuddering breaths. Rocinante held her for what seemed like a long time, though there was no way of knowing exactly how many minutes had passed. He patted and rubbed her back soothingly, not moving until she pulled back of her own accord, quickly brushing at her eyes.

He smiled at her, then reached up to wipe his own eyes. “Come on…we need to get those ribs set…don’t protest or I’ll tuck you under my good arm and nobody wants that because what if I fall down or catch on fire while I’m carrying you?”

Aylin managed a half-hearted scoff, but offered a small smile a moment later. "Alright, alright..." She exhaled slowly, figuring that red, puffy eyes would probably go unnoticed considering the rest of her appearance. She was about to set off toward the infirmary, but faltered in her footsteps, glancing up to give him a meaningful look. "And, um...thanks."

oOo

Aylin was itching to have several choice words with the inner circle the moment the ship returned to Penndel, although after a bit of consideration, she supposed it could wait until she'd had a good night's rest. After all, limping into the conference room and hoarsely wheezing out curse words would hardly be intimidating.

Upon the stubborn insistence of Stokes, she and Rocinante remained in the medical bay overnight for observation. She had tried to explain that she was fine, but that only prompted him to list every injury she'd sustained in detail and the risks that went along with them, so in the end she gave up and claimed a cot in the corner of the room.

Aylin at least had to hand it to the doctor; he did an excellent job of feigning apathy, but at the heart of it all he was passionate and dedicated to his practice.

Rocinante carefully lowered himself onto the cot beside Aylin's, although not without bumping his head against the wall while attempting to lay down. It was far too small for a man of his size, and even laying down, his feet rested on the floor rather comically.

The red-head suppressed a smirk as she watched him try to get comfortable, struggling with a blanket that only covered about half of his body. In truth, she was glad that he was with her. While she wasn't proud about practically falling apart in his arms a few days earlier, she couldn't deny that he'd helped her more than she could possibly express. She recalled what he had told her about himself; how he had lost both of his parents and how well he understood the emptiness that never left a person after experiencing such a tragedy.

When she thought about it, his words had seemed almost haunting, which told her that there was far more to the story than he’d let on. Aylin had always seen Rocinante as a kind, cheerful young man, and though he certainly had his moments when his temper got the better of him, she'd never actually considered that he might have gone through something so traumatic.

She averted her eyes when he finally caught her watching him, pretending to be looking around the room instead.

A smile made its way across Rocinante’s face. “I saw that, Lin! Caught you,” he said weakly, and then coughed, his chest hit with a spasm of pain. “Ow…uh…man, broken ribs really suck…”

She snorted in response, still looking around the room as if she were fascinated by all the medical articles of interest that Stokes had hung up on the walls. "You're telling me."

He reached his good arm over and poked her gently. “Are you going to be alright? That was a really long list Dr. Stokes was reading off on your injuries, and I know how much you hate to take medicine. Am I going to have to remind you?” He teased.

Aylin looked back at him and rolled her eyes. "You're hilarious."

Rocinante let out a long breath as he locked eyes with the red-haired woman. He didn’t know he was going to find a friend in his undercover missions. He’d always been a friendly person, sure, but he’d never been this close to someone. It was so nice how familiar they could be with each other. They could joke or even talk about serious things, about everything or about nothing. It was a luxury he’d never had before.

That, of course, would make it all the more painful once he wasn’t able to do this anymore. He hadn’t forgotten about his mission, and about what he would inevitably have to do, but somehow he just couldn’t help becoming attached to her. She was truly one of the best people he’d ever known. Like a hard candy with a soft center that was really sweet—you just had to take the time to get there.

He felt his face heating up as he remembered holding her while she cried, her small frame cradled in his arms, and the sobs she was desperately trying to make inaudible. He’d seen her at her best and at her worst, and he knew she could say the same about him. A warmth spread through him, and he realized that this time _he_ was the one staring.

Aylin eased herself onto her side, curling her legs up as she faced him, one arm propping herself up. She looked rather deep in thought, as if considering something. The room fell silent for several minutes, the only sound in the room coming from the ticking clock on the wall and the occasional noise from Stokes's office.

Eventually she spoke, her voice a bit softer than before. "I didn't know that about you. What you said before, about losing your parents...I'm sorry," she added with a note of genuine sympathy.

Rocinante was a bit taken aback. He hadn’t expected her to bring up that subject, although he honestly felt touched that she’d thought about it enough to mention it again.

“Thank you,” he replied softly. “My mother was the sweetest person I ever knew. She tried her hardest for all of us up until the day she died. She died of an illness…we’d been living in poverty for a while when I was around 6 years old…and her health suffered greatly.”

There was a long pause. Aylin sensed that he wasn't finished, so she gave a gentle nod and waited patiently for him to continue.

“I was there the day she died,” he said. “I saw the life slip out of her. Not everyone gets to be there when their loved one takes their last breath. She really loved us all so much. She deserved better.” He clenched his fist tightly, his jaw tensing up as the face of his brother as a child flashed through his mind. The madness that had ensued after their mother’s death was more than children their age could bear. But of course Doflamingo hadn’t become a stronger, better person from it. Nor had he become compassionate in the least bit. Instead, he became even more set in his malevolent ways.

Aylin nodded in understanding as she silently listened. She, too, knew the pain of such a loss. Her own mother had passed suddenly when she was young. Not as young as Rocinante had been, but she still remembered it as vividly as the day it had happened.

She gave him a small smile. "Sounds like you take after her."

Rocinante’s face softened as he looked back over to meet her eyes. “I can only hope that I do. Glad you think so, Lin. Both her and my father were kind people, people who had sympathy for everyone. But in the end we couldn’t be accepted by the people we had sympathy for…”

"I see..." Aylin felt curiosity urging her to press him for details, but the despondent note in his voice told her that he wasn't terribly keen on discussing it further, so she decided to let it go for now. When he wanted to talk about it, she figured he would let her know.

Rocinante gulped, all of a sudden wanting to veer the subject away from his own family. “I’m so glad you’re okay…if a not a little worse for wear.” He reached over between their cots for her hand and gave it as firm a squeeze as he dared, noticing how his hand completely enveloped hers due to its size.

Her eyes flickered up to meet his at the gesture, but she made no move to pull away.

“You’ll be wanting to write home to your family right? Your daughter and your husband. That’s why you’re always going to the post office, isn’t it? I never really thought about it until after you told me that you have a daughter. I know you feel guilty for not being able to spend time with them, but you’re a good woman and you’re doing the best you can for them. Maybe…maybe you could ask for some time off to go visit?”

The thought of Aylin being away from him for any amount of time felt painful and his chest constricted tightly, but there was no way he could be selfish about something like this. She had a family waiting for her; he hadn’t even known her that long, a little over six months, but even so, one had to have priorities. He realized he was still grasping her hand and then let his slide away as he searched her eyes.

Aylin exhaled a laugh. "Well, you've got it partially right. I've been sending out packages to my daughter when I can, yes. Husband...?" She let out a scoff before she could stop herself. "Let's just say I’ve closed the book on that one.” Her nose crinkled a bit at the thought. “We don’t talk."

Rocinante was shocked by the ripple of surprise that went through him at her words. It was almost as if his heart had attempted to jump out of his chest. It began hammering against his ribs at an alarming rate as he took a few moments to process this information. He was confused by the fact that the sensation he was feeling most at this moment was relief. What…? Why would he feel so relieved to hear her say that?

A flush crossed over his cheeks before he realized he really needed to say something back before he looked like a giant ass.

“OH! UH…UM…that’s…I’m…I’m sorry Lin, it…it must be hard.” He really wanted to ask more questions, to pepper her with them in fact, and find out every bit of information that he could on this former husband of hers. Were they separated? Or actually divorced?

And why was this such a big deal all of a sudden, anyway?

Aylin looked amused by how flustered he suddenly seemed. She waved a hand dismissively. "Don't be sorry about it, I'm not. The guy's useless...couldn't rely on him for anything. I left my Peanut with his sister, at least she's got some sense..."

Rocinante met her eyes again and tapped his good hand against his chin. “But you married him…you…you must’ve loved him at some point.” He gasped slightly after these words were out of his mouth; that was really none of his business, but it had come spilling out all the same. Rocinante himself had never been in love—aside from a crush here or there in between assignments—but he imagined that breaking it off with a person whom one loved or had once loved was surely a painful ordeal, especially if there was a child involved.

She gave him a knowing look, propping her chin up with a fist. "Oh, I sure liked to tell people I did. I was also pregnant, so maybe there was a little denial in the mix. I was young and stupid once, you know. Stubborn, too, as I'm sure you've noticed." She chuckled at that and then shook her head as she recalled her past relationship. "We weren't together very long before we got married...I should've seen the signs, but I was apparently blinded by his killer abs and nice smile. My father was furious...but I fought so hard for us to be together...even after I realized my mistake, I still couldn't admit to it." She sighed and let herself fall gently onto her back so that she stared up at the ceiling. "What I regret more than anything is that my daughter had to be involved in all of that...but I wouldn't trade her for anything in the world."

Rocinante nodded even though he knew that Aylin couldn’t see him. He felt honored that she would share something so personal with him. “I see,” he finally said, rolling over onto his back and staring up at the ceiling as well. “Thank you,” he whispered after a short silence. “For sharing all that with me. It sounds like you have a hell of a kid, and my earlier statement still stands about you doing the best you can… Lin, really though, you couldn’t take time off to see her? I…I’d miss you terribly, but you know what they say, right? Family…family first…”

Aylin's voice sounded sleepy when she replied after a moment. "I can't do that...it’s too dangerous. If I were followed and the wrong people found out about her, it would all be over. I’m in this life too deep now." She closed her eyes, trying to mask the sadness from her tone. "If I truly want to keep her safe, then I have to stay away from her. It’s…it’s the best chance she has for a good life.” She swallowed, pausing a moment before continuing, “You're actually the first person I've told this to. So...I know it goes without saying, but I'd appreciate it if you'd keep this between the two of us."

Rocinante felt his heart leap again. _He_ was the only person she’d told?! He felt tears spring to his eyes anew, though he did his best to force them back. “Of course, Lin,” he whispered. “I’d never tell your secret…”

He turned to look at her but she’d already fallen asleep, her breathing becoming slow and even. Rocinante smiled at her peaceful face, and wished happy dreams for her—ones that included her and her daughter together, laughing and playing. He found himself imagining this little scenario, but all of a sudden the fantasy took an unexpected turn when _he_ appeared there with them; he and Aylin both holding the hands of a little red-headed girl as they walked through some busy town, and for a second there they actually looked like a family…

His face lit up like a firecracker and he covered it with his good hand. His heart began to pound. What the hell? These trains of thought were going to make him crazy!

Rocinante peeked between his fingers at the sleeping woman, which did nothing to soothe the current state of his heart and mind. He reached over once more, his hand hesitantly hovering over her cheek, not willing to admit that he already knew what the blossoming feeling in his chest was.

Drawing back his hand, he whispered, “Goodnight, Lin…”

oOo

Something had changed.  
  
However imperceptible it may have been, something had definitely changed between them. Rocinante noticed it the next morning when he woke up in that cramped hospital bed and Aylin wasn’t in the one beside him. Red flags began to go up in his head and he bolted upright, simultaneously hitting his head on the ceiling and jostling his wounds.  
  
“Owwwww,” he moaned, bending over and clutching at his head.  
  
“Hey.” A familiar female voice spoke just then, sending a jolt through his chest. “Are you okay? What happened?”  
  
Rocinante’s eyes widened as he stumbled over to where Aylin was standing at the door, falling onto his knees and grasping at her wrists. Her hands weren’t free because she was holding two coffee cups, one quite a bit larger than the other. “Lin…Lin, I thought—”  
  
“What?” She was prepared to scold him, but then saw how worried he was and her eyes softened ever so slightly. “Listen, I know how much you like the coffee at the café we always go to, so I went and got some for us. And don’t give me that look—I know I should be resting, but a little walk never hurt anyone.”  
  
“I…” He fumbled for words, rising to his feet again. “I would’ve gone with you,” he replied sheepishly as he took the offered cup.  
  
Lin shook her head. “It’s fine. I knew I wouldn’t be gone long. Joann sends her well-wishes to you, by the way,” she added as she seated herself on a chair nearby.  
  
“Awwww…that’s sweet.” Rocinante went in for a sip, then reconsidered and began blowing rather forcefully on the top of the cup—which sent a few small streams of liquid splashing out and dribbling down the sides—before taking a hesitant sip. Thankfully it had cooled down enough during Aylin’s trip back so that he could drink it without burning his tongue.

They both drank in comfortable silence for a while until Aylin couldn’t stand Rocinante’s eyes on her any longer. Ever since she'd returned to the room, he had been staring so hard that she felt as if he were boring holes into her head.

Still unsure what had gotten into him that morning, she cleared her throat and asked, “Rocinante, what is it?”  
  
The tall man quickly averted his eyes as if he had been caught doing something wrong. “N-nothing, nothing! I was just worried when I woke up and you were gone, after…after everything, you know…” He stared down into the brown liquid of the cup he was nursing.  
  
Aylin clucked her tongue. “What, did you think I had suddenly died in the night? Thanks for the vote of confidence," she remarked in a teasing manner as Rocinante chuckled awkwardly. After a short stretch of silence, she let her eyes travel up to the ceiling. "Damn…I’m really not looking forward to writing a report on this mission. I fully intend to have a nice _chat_ with Scarlet about all of this, but Blackburn may be another matter entirely...” The red-head frowned, placing her cup down on the table between their cots.  
  
“Just tell them it was my fault. There’s no need for you to get dragged down. I’m the new guy, relatively speaking, and I easily could’ve screwed something up.”  
  
“Oh, _sure._ ” Aylin quirked an eyebrow at him. “Wait…you’re serious? You know they’ll leave you down there in hell with Maynard if I do that, right?”  
  
Rocinante gave a half shrug with his shoulder, not meeting her eyes. “You need this job. It’s for...for _her_ , right? You can’t afford to take that kind of hit…I mean what if they dock your pay? No one knew it was a trap…and I am tough, but I’m also clumsy so I think they’d buy it. Just…just do it, Lin. It’ll be fine.”  
  
The woman let out a heavy sigh, reaching for her cup of coffee. He had a point, and the fact that he’d be so self-sacrificing on her behalf was more than a little touching. He was putting someone else's child above himself...a child he'd never even met. A noble gesture if she’d ever seen one. Aylin stared down at the half-full cup of coffee in her hands, lightly drumming her fingers along the warm styrofoam.

"That's...that's very kind of you to offer..." She glanced back up at him, a sincere look in her eyes. "But I'm not going to throw you under the bus like that. You...you have reasons to succeed here, too...don't you...?" Aylin recalled that conversation they'd had whilst tied up in the Don's cargo. Her voice dropped low as she continued, "You said you were on a mission. You said...that there's someone you're after. Obviously I don't know the details, but I'm pretty sure that you taking the fall for this mess wouldn't help you accomplish any of that."

Rocinante looked down. She wasn’t wrong. “I just don’t want them to blame it all on you, Lin.” He rubbed the back of his head, still not looking at her.

She nodded, reaching out to touch his elbow momentarily. "They won’t. It was a set-up. Not unusual in our line of work,” she assured him, despite the knot twisting in the pit of her stomach. Sometimes the truth mattered less than the results in the eyes of the Inner Circle, and in fact, he was right to be worried. But she forced a smile and met his eyes as she said, “Whatever happens, we'll face it as a team. It’ll be alright."


	9. An Unexpected Discovery

True to her word, Aylin successfully organized a meeting with the Inner Circle the very next day. Practically dragging Rocinante along behind her, she marched into the otherwise empty meeting room with purpose, her face set in a hard expression, hands on her hips as she addressed the higher-ups.

Yes, the mission was a failure, she’d admitted, but was quick to throw the blame at the sources that the Syndicate had relied on. She and Rocinante had done the best with what they had been thrown into, and were damned lucky to be alive at all.

Rocinante was actually rather surprised that Aylin was allowed to speak so freely before them; everything he’d heard so far about the Inner Circle had convinced him that they were an unreasonable bunch who saw their employees as expendable. The way Maynard told it, the slightest affront to the Inner Circle earned a swift and severe punishment. How else had they managed to keep all of their people in line?

So while she gave her account of the incident, not bothering to hide her anger over the way things had transpired, Rocinante occasionally nodded in agreement and contributed to the discussion only when prompted.

“Your displeasure has been noted, Ms. Wild,” Scarlet quipped toward the end of their meeting. She was curt and professional as ever, although her brow was furrowed just slightly and her annoyance was made quite clear by the stare she was giving Aylin. “As you request, Blackburn will be made aware that the issue was not the fault of you and Rocinante. And I assure you, it _will_ be dealt with. Finish writing up your report in the meantime. Should you be needed for more input, you will be contacted.”

Aylin gave her a short nod, still looking displeased but satisfied that she’d given them a piece of her mind. She motioned for Rocinante to follow her out of the room when Scarlet spoke up once more.

“Some advice, Ms. Wild…” She waited until Aylin had stopped and turned back toward the group before continuing, “In the future, you may want to be more mindful of the way you address your superiors. Don’t forget your place within this organization. Not _all_ of us would welcome such blatant insubordination.” Scarlet’s eyes narrowed at that last sentence, and Aylin had a pretty good idea of who she’d just pissed off.  
  
“Of course…” Aylin pursed her lips and managed another nod. “May we go?”

“Yes, you are dismissed.”

And with that, the meeting came to an end. Rocinante had often thought Scarlet sounded extremely militaristic, and idly wondered if she had any kind of background with the marines. He figured he’d have to ask Sengoku sometime...which reminded him that he was late with his status report _yet again_. Damn. The man was probably worried.  Rocinante couldn’t help but smile thinking about it.

The moment he returned to his cramped apartment that night, the young marine set his den den mushi onto the coffee table and contacted his superior officer. He waited several moments while the den den rang. Marine HQ was in a different time zone, so it was several hours earlier there and he hoped he hadn’t caught him at a bad time. Finally, someone picked up on the other end.

"Yes?!" There was some sort of cacophony in the background, making Sengoku's voice difficult to hear at first.

“Is that you, Bagels?” Rocinante grinned into the receiver. “Sounds like your family is livelier than ever!”

Sengoku's voice perked up immediately. "Muffins! Yes, it's me. Let me just—BUKIYOUSUKE, take your friends and go outside! It's too sunny to spend the day indoors anyhow!" After some jumbling, there was the sound of a door slamming shut and Sengoku's voice came through much clearer. "It's always something around here," he grumbled. "At any rate, I'd say it's past due for an update from you. What caused the delay? It's been over a month since your last report! Need I remind you that I was hesitant about sending you into that pit of snakes in the first place?"

“I know, sir, and I have managed to move up in ranks here but there were some recent…complications on my latest mission.” Rocinante cringed inwardly, thinking about having to talk to his superior about having been beaten half to death by a rogue Mafia leader. “A certain Don of a certain family may have been involved…BUT I’M OKAY! Lin and I are only on probation, so it looks like things are going to be pretty slow for the next few weeks.” He let out a breathy sigh unbidden.

Sengoku hummed in response, well aware of Rocinante's partnership with one of the Syndicate's high-ranking associates. He had been wary, but couldn't deny that it gave the young man a definite leg-up in his endeavors. "I see. And how are things progressing? Are you any closer to uncovering the Syndicate's secrets?" He hoped to keep Rocinante on track. Sengoku recalled a previous undercover mission during which the young marine had befriended someone who ended up being killed in action. He didn't want to see a repeat of that incident, or worse.

“Oh, I think it’s going really well! Lin and I are closer than ever…” Rocinante felt his face heat up and he touched a hand to his cheek in surprise. “I..I…me-mean,” he stuttered into the receiver, “she’s so…EHEHEHEHE…SORRY, I don’t know what came over me, I mean… I don’t know how much longer this is going to take. I still haven’t been able to meet or even catch a glimpse of Blackburn, but suffice to say, the Syndicate has their sticky fingers all over the underworld…”

Sengoku sighed into the receiver and Rocinante could practically hear him massaging his temples. "I see...well, I hadn't expected it to be a quick and simple mission. You seem to have earned their trust, at least. That's good. If only we had more information on Blackburn, we could actually make a move...unfortunately, storming their current base of operations would be pointless. Previous attempts have shown us that Blackburn simply goes off the map for a stretch of time, only to reappear in the underworld again with new numbers. At any rate, I'll keep an eye on the Alfredo Family's movements for you. But in the meantime, _do_ be careful. Remember, no matter how close you become to these Syndicate members, in the end you are working to bring them all down. Be careful not to form _real_ attachments to them."

“Thanks, Bagels...take care of yourself, okay? Don’t stress out, you’ll go gray!” Rocinante chuckled as he heard some more crashing and yelling in the background at Sengoku’s place. He knew the man had an office at home and was actually pretty happy to learn that he spent time there. It gave Rocinante hope for his own future, that he too might have a happy family someday.

“Darling, lunch is ready!” The slightly muffled voice of Sengoku’s wife could be heard. “AND THAT DAMN GOAT GOES OUTSIDE, HE IS NOT EATING AT THE TABLE WITH US!”

"Bah!" Sengoku scoffed gruffly. "What did Billy ever do to you? Honestly, what a heartless woman... Anyway, Muffins, I'll be awaiting your next report in a few weeks. Try to be a bit more punctual," he added, his voice stern but with an obvious note of concern for the younger man. More muffled voices in the background prompted Sengoku to call out, "Alright, alright! I'll be there in a moment! Honestly, it's impossible to get any—” The connection cut out at that moment as Sengoku left to join his family for lunch.

Rocinante hung up the receiver with a smile, pushing back all thoughts about him having to take down the entire Blackburn Syndicate. Because the entire Blackburn Syndicate included Aylin. He already knew the risks. He already paid the consequences on a previous mission.  He knew that the chances of the same thing happening again were likely in this business, and especially in this stepping stone of a place he’d chosen to get closer to his brother…  
  
Which he’d had no such luck in achieving thus far. In fact, he hadn’t once heard the Donquixote Pirates mentioned among the Syndicate, despite the rumors that they had some sort of connection. Still, that key piece of information was something that Rocinante had held back from Sengoku when he took this mission. The Blackburn Syndicate was a hornets’ nest—Sengoku wasn’t wrong about that—and Rocinante was sure that his superior never would have let him take this mission if he’d known there was any chance of running into Doflamingo so soon.

Rocinante supposed he would have to start digging deeper in the near future…just as soon as he recovered from the latest incident. He supposed he’d be stuck with Maynard hauling freight for quite a while after his injuries were healed, while Aylin would likely be up to her ears in paperwork.

He breathed out a long sigh thinking it would probably be best to get to sleep early, that way he could surprise her with coffee before the morning shift started.  
  
Rocinante brushed his teeth hunched over in his tiny bathroom, staring in the cracked mirror at his disheveled appearance. A myriad of cuts, scrapes and bruises adorned his face and body after the last mission.

It had been a draining and painful experience for the both of them. He was just thankful that Aylin was okay. He would have been more than willing to take even more damage and pain if it meant less for her. He’d come to think quite highly of her, and perhaps she thought the same of him; she’d told him her secret about her daughter back home, after all. She was kind, caring, didn’t enjoy killing even if it were an enemy, and he speculated that she didn’t particularly care to work in this corrupt business at all. The whole venture was for the sake of her daughter, as she’d previously indicated.

Rocinante flopped down into the tiny bed and buried his face into his ratty pillow. His thoughts were filled with Aylin’s wry smile as he drifted off to sleep.

oOo

The next morning, Rocinante woke early and practically bolted down to the cafe to secure coffee and biscuits. Once he’d purchased the goods, he rushed to the place that he and Aylin usually met outside of the shoe factory. He’d made sure to arrive about twenty minutes early, just in case the woman had the same idea about going in to work ahead of schedule.

It was there that he waited for her.   
  
He shuffled his feet back and forth in impatience, feeling a sense of both excitement and nervousness at the same time. When her familiar head of orange hair finally came into view, Rocinante felt his heart begin to pound in his chest.  
  
“L-LIN!” He called out to her, somehow managing not to fall over and waste all the biscuits and coffee he’d procured. “G-good morning!” He smiled brightly, bending down to offer her the coffee.

“Oh.” She raised a brow in surprise at the gesture, though reached out to accept the beverage. “Thanks.”

His cheeks flushed as their fingers brushed together momentarily. He almost pulled back his hand, but stopped himself in time, stammering an apology as he got a good look at her and noted with relief that she seemed to be okay.

“How…how are you feeling?” He asked as he opened up the little basket and offered her a biscuit with her coffee. “Sorry, I forgot the butter and jam…”

Aylin chuckled. "You're earlier than usual. And here I thought _I_ was the crazy one for wanting to get a jump start on the workload." She gave him a small smirk before reaching into the basket for a biscuit. "But I do appreciate this. Actually, I needed to find you anyway so this saves me some time."

Rocinante had nearly fallen over when she smirked at him, just barely managing not to burn himself on his coffee; it was extremely hot after all. “AH, UM…you were looking for me?” Another dark flush covered his cheeks as he became painfully aware that he was acting like a complete fool, though probably no more than usual to Aylin. At least he hoped so.   
  
She had just opened her mouth to reply when Rocinante tripped on a large rock that was on the pathway toward the factory. He flailed his arms as he fell backward, the contents of both hands flying up into the air.   
  
“AUUUUGH!!!” He fell flat on his back, feet straight up in the air as hot coffee spilled on his face, resulting in another shriek. The basket of biscuits bounced off his chest and landed nearby.

Aylin immediately halted in her footsteps. "Whoa! Are you alright?"

Rocinante gave her a weak thumbs-up, noting with relief that nothing inside the basket had spilled out. “Oh good, the biscuits are safe! I didn’t want you go hungry…” He laughed nervously and sat up, coffee dribbling down his face. His cheeks were becoming redder by the moment, and not just from the heat of the liquid.

Honestly, was he always such an embarrassment?

‘Probably,’ he thought.

The redhead sighed and shook her head, her expression a mixture of amusement and sympathy as she bent to his level, pulling a napkin out of her shoulder bag. "Here, I'll get that, it looks like it burns." She leaned a bit closer to dab off the hot liquid scorching his face. "I've got some ointment in my office, too. You might as well come up and get some, since you'll be with me all day anyway."

Rocinante immediately reacted, nearly knocking her off her feet when he sat straight up. “WHAT? All…all day with you?” Rocinante’s heart began to race once more. He knew that the reason had to be for work’s sake, but he was honestly extremely happy about it, and a stupid smile appeared on his face.

Aylin snorted. "Don't get too excited, it's not exactly going to be fun. You aren't supposed to be doing any heavy lifting while you're healing up—I know, I know, because I'm the paragon of healthy habits—and Maynard wouldn't care; he'd work his people to death if he could. So I put in a request to have you assist me for a while."

Rocinante felt his heart leap. "REALLY?" He mentally slapped himself and immediately schooled his features. "Er, I mean...I see. You can do that?"

She shrugged. "It wasn't too difficult. You should see the state of my desk right now."

He nodded. “Oh, well…okay…” He got up and dusted off his pants, following her like an obedient puppy the rest of the way into the factory and then toward Aylin’s office, all the while making promises about how he wouldn’t set the papers on fire or spill ink and mess up her alphabetical stacks.

Once there, Aylin unlocked the door and stepped inside, grabbing hold of his arm before he could smack his head on the door frame. That little gesture had practically become a reflex by now. Gesturing wordlessly toward her desk, Rocinante could see that it was indeed in utter disarray. The Syndicate was clearly taking every advantage of her suspense from active duty. The folders were piled so high that it was almost impossible to see around them, even for a man of nearly ten feet.

Noticing his wide-eyed expression, Aylin nodded. "Yeah. That was my thought, too." She wheeled over a chair for him, though it was quite small for someone of his size. "It should go a lot quicker with two people working on it. We'll get a good system going, organize them by businesses and individuals..." She sighed, raking a hand through her hair. It was still going to be a monstrous task.

Rocinante moved at a slow enough pace not to send any of the stacks tumbling down at a moment’s notice. He followed Aylin’s instructions on how to sort the stacks into the groups that she’d indicated. It appeared that some of them were already in alphabetical order, whether that was by chance or design. The chair that Aylin had gotten for him was extremely cramped and his knees kept bumping the table, but in a way, he did find himself in a fortunate position as he was able to watch Aylin from his towering height above her, even when seated. Several times he had to hold back a contented sigh as he snuck peeks at her while she was hard at work. She was like a focused machine, and he couldn’t help but admire that.

Shaking himself from his daze, Rocinante reached for the next folder on the stack and nearly cried out upon seeing the name emblazoned across the tab. He quickly clapped his free hand over his mouth, the folder slightly shaking in his other hand before he set it down on the empty space of the table.

He softly cleared his throat and pushed the folder toward Aylin.

“So,” he began, keeping his voice calm and collected, “this name looks familiar. Does the Blackburn Syndicate have any dealings with this group on the regular? Seems…a bit high-profile.”

Aylin glanced up from the folder she'd been currently sifting through, eyeing the name for a moment before nodding in recognition. "Oh. The Donquixote Family." She placed one hand on the folder, which was not quite as thick as many of the others, sliding it a bit closer. "Yeah, now and then, although I would bet we'll be doing more business with them in the future. You've heard of Doflamingo, eh?" Upon his robotic nod in response, she gave a mirthless chuckle. "I guess you'd have to be living under a rock around here to not know who he is. The guy is bad news... Nobody in the Syndicate likes dealing with him, but he's been so good for business that it would be insane _not_ to."

Rocinante swallowed, careful not to let his expression give anything away. "I see..." He looked from the folder to Aylin, a disconcerting thought causing his brow to furrow. "Have _you_ met him, then?"

She shook her head. "Can’t say I’ve had the displeasure. Scarlet has nothing nice to say about him, though. For such a young guy, it's a little unnerving to have that kind of reputation already..." Noticing the look on Rocinante's face, she added, "Don't worry. Blackburn usually sends the top dogs out for those kinds of deals. Chances are, you'll probably never cross paths with him."

Rocinante laughed somewhat awkwardly before managing to reply with, "O-oh, okay! That's good."

Aylin quirked one eyebrow at this display, but Rocinante was able to play it off as nervousness quite easily. He let the subject drop after that and returned to the task at hand.

He would have continued to ponder upon the discovery for a while longer, but when he looked down to retrieve another file for sorting, he caught sight of Aylin again. She wasn’t paying any attention to him, completely absorbed in what she was doing as she tapped her pen on her bottom lip in thought. Another stupid grin pasted itself across his face. Now that he thought about it, he’d been smiling like a fool ever since that morning and his cheeks quite hurt. All those cuts and bruises sure didn’t help!

Still, despite the distraction, his mind kept bouncing back to the folder with his brother's name on it. That was a significant discovery. After half a year undercover within the Syndicate, he'd finally found the lead he'd been searching for. The rumors of his brother being involved with the Blackburn Syndicate were true after all. He had to see what that folder contained, and while managing to avoid arising any suspicion from Aylin. Simply asking to see its contents would seem strange when he hadn't expressed interest in any of the other ones. She would ask questions, and he would possibly have no choice but to be truthful. He felt sure that he could trust her, but what would happen when she realized he'd been deceiving her the entire time? He felt a pang in his chest at the thought of her rejecting him. She would probably never forgive him. Perhaps she would even hate him. If his mission was a success, then such a thing would be inevitable... He couldn't bear the thought of disappointing her. He was being dishonest with her, but he couldn't help but want to prolong the time that he could spend with her like this.

Rocinante vehemently shoved those thoughts into the back of his mind. He would simply cross that bridge when the time came. No sense in worrying about what hadn't happened.

And so he continued to work well into the afternoon, making sure to keep note of where the folder recording his brother's activity was located. He had his chance to take a closer look at it when Aylin stepped out of the office for a few minutes to use the restroom. That was the moment he scrambled over to the pile of sorted folders, accidentally knocking everything off the desk as he did so. He hastily sifted through the records until he found the one dedicated to the Donquixote Family. Flipping through the papers within, his eyes scanned the forms for any information he could put to use.

There were documents recording transactions, some of them quite recent. One of them had occurred just last month. It also contained the location in which the trade had been made and the merchandise sold, though neither of those facts told him very much. Doflamingo most likely only used the island as a neutral zone in order to make the transaction, like many other individuals commonly did.

Still, there was a definite trend, indicating that it was only a matter of time before Doflamingo made another deal with the Blackburn Syndicate. Rocinante vowed to himself to keep an ear out for whenever that happened. His primary objective was to bring down the Syndicate…but if he could keep tabs on his brother's activity as well, then he'd be able to fulfill his secondary, secret goal at the same time.

All for the sake of his ultimate personal mission—to put an end to his elder brother's madness.

oOo

Rocinante continued to work with Aylin in her office for about a week until Stokes cleared him for manual labor. He was a little disappointed to say the least, but he knew that it was inevitable.

Doing physical labor left his mind completely free to wander to any topic it pleased, and Rocinante soon realized that 90% of that topic was Aylin Wild. She was there every time he closed his eyes. Her voice resonated inside his head. His heart sped up every time he caught so much as a glimpse of her or even if he saw someone with red hair out of the corner of his eye.   
  
Rocinante looked forward to seeing her more than anything and found himself asking more and more questions at each of their hangouts or lunches. He wanted to know everything about her, no matter how mundane the detail might be. He’d been hesitant to put a name to the feelings that welled up inside of him every time she called his name, every time she smiled. But he already knew what it was; the thing that had changed between them over the course of time.

What he felt for her now was definitely more than friendship.   
  
He found himself staring at her lips sometimes when she spoke, causing her to become annoyed when he hadn’t heard or comprehended a word she’d said and resulting in her swatting at his arm. His heart pounded at each and every small touch from her, no matter how innocent, and he often thought about what it would feel like to hold her. To run his fingers through her hair. To kiss her lips softly.   
  
He’d rolled around on the floor of his apartment, knocking over anything that wasn’t bolted down on more than one occasion when he’d thought too much about her. He felt both sweet agony and elation in his constant thought process that revolved around the woman who was his co-worker and partner. It was unprofessional and he knew it, but it was simply impossible for him to stop.

Out of everything he had hoped to gain from the mission, _this_ was the last thing he’d thought would happen. Rocinante wasn’t sure if he believed in fate or not, but every time he looked at her, he wanted to.

He wanted to do all the nice things in the world for her, to make her happy, to see her smile every day.

For now, he thought, _that_ would be enough.


	10. A Little Time Off

The next several weeks saw the two of them completing smaller missions here and there. Though some members of the organization would have found them quite boring, Aylin saw it as a welcome break and a relief to step out of the base for a while. Not to mention a good opportunity to mail out an overdue package. She thought it was probably good for Rocinante as well; she'd not missed that he'd been acting somewhat strange recently. He seemed to have some trouble focusing and would often end up staring at her as if he didn't quite grasp what she had told him, his thoughts obviously elsewhere. He had even managed to become even clumsier, something she hadn't thought possible but he'd achieved it nonetheless. He would become easily flustered whenever she'd request simple tasks of him or anytime she would touch him, no matter how gently, resulting in all sorts of accidents.

She was a little concerned about him, in fact. She thought that perhaps their last mission had really done a number on his psyche and he needed more time to recover. There was certainly such a thing as delayed post-traumatic stress, after all.

One day Aylin had skipped lunch in order to catch up on the never-ending tower of paperwork threatening to swallow up her desk. Rocinante had dropped by to walk with her to their usual coffee house, but she'd sent him along his way. He had seemed dejected, but respected her wishes nonetheless and headed out by himself, though not before tripping over a chair as he exited her office.

She had not expected to see him again until after work, where he would normally wait outside while having a smoke, but an hour later her ears picked up the heavy footsteps walking down the hallway and then the telltale sound of a forehead smacking a doorframe.

Aylin didn't even look up until the door cracked open and Rocinante ducked down enough to poke his head inside.

"I brought you coffee! Just the way you like it."

She raised one eyebrow, imagining there must be an angry red mark beneath the mop of blonde hair covering his forehead. "You _really_ need to be more careful."

Rocinante gave her a sheepish grin. "Heh, sorry." He walked forward and placed the steaming cup onto her desk. "I'll be sure to apologize to the doorframe later."

Aylin rolled her eyes, though she was quite grateful that he'd thought to bring her the beverage. "Thanks. I'll pay you back."

"I hope so, that 650 beli really broke the bank!"

She snorted. "All your life savings, what a shame."

"And you wonder why I live in such a shitty apartment." He smirked back at her and then cleared his throat after a moment. "Uhh...by the way, on my way back I saw an advertisement for a fireworks festival in town tonight." He flashed her a grin. "Sounds like fun, right??"

Aylin gave him a look as though he'd grown a second head. "What? It sounds like a waste of time. I've barely even put a dent in all this damn paperwork."

Rocinante made a low noise in his throat. "We can't just work all the time... Don't you think we deserve to take a little time off for ourselves every now and then? Besides, it'll only be for a few hours. It's not like the world will stop turning if we're not here for a little while." He crossed his hands behind his back and gave her an expectant look.

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, her eyes darting down to the papers stacked high on her desk. It wasn't as though she _wanted_ to spend the rest of the night finding budget discrepancies…

"Well..." She grimaced. "I suppose you're right. I _am_ making pretty good time with this, despite how it may look."

Rocinante looked ridiculously happy as a grin lit up his face. "Yes!" He coughed. "I mean, good choice... Come on, let's face it, nobody's ever been on their death bed wishing they'd worked more. Hey, I wonder if we should dress up? I can wear that yellow shirt you love so much." He chuckled and flashed her a peace sign as she threw a pencil at him.

"I can't believe you still have that thing!" Aylin dragged a hand through her hair. "No, let’s not. I don’t own anything traditional. When does this thing start, anyway?"

"Right after sunset," he replied. "And they'll have lots of food...like funnel cakes! And takoyaki and ramen and—" He was cut off by the sound of his stomach growling loudly. "I'm getting hungry just thinking about it. I want to try everything!"

Aylin chuckled. "I should have known it was going to be all about the food. I've never been to the festival here, but some of the guys were raving about the funnel cakes last year."

"It'll be fun! Maybe there'll even be dancing, or I could win you a pet goldfish! You can keep one in here, right? I can barely take care of myself, much less a fish..." He patted her on the shoulder, eager to get going. "Come on, come on!"

"Alright, alright...let me lock up first."

She shooed him out of her office ahead of her, making sure to help him avoid smacking his head on the doorframe again, then turned to lock her office door. She could sense his giddiness as they headed down the hall toward the staircase. After having been through what they had recently, she thought that maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all. It could be just what he needed.

He spoke up again as they were descending the stairs. "I...may have bought something _traditional_ a while back. Just because I had some extra savings kicking around! But I, erm...I think I would have some trouble putting it on. Maybe you would be kind enough to help me...?" He gave her a rather sly grin at that.

Aylin had a knowing look on her face as she replied, "Normally I'd call bullshit, but knowing you, that could very well become disastrous."

"I don't know how I manage to put my pants on in the morning without setting my apartment on fire!" He laughed ridiculously loudly while they made their way out of the Syndicate's heavily secured entrance, passing Maynard as they left. Rocinante waved at him and only received a grumpy snarl in return. "Well, damn, nobody's forcing him to work overtime."

"I honestly have never seen him leave this place," Aylin remarked.

 

oOo

 

Rocinante didn't live too far from the building, as it was more convenient to simply walk a few minutes to work each day, so the trip was a fairly short one. He twirled his house key on his finger as he led Aylin into his apartment.

"Come on in. It's a wreck because I'm a bachelor...who is ten feet tall with an eight-foot ceiling..."

Aylin took note of all the dents in the ceiling that were suspiciously shaped like Rocinante's head, and scorch marks on the walls in some places, particularly above the stove. She guessed he didn't attempt to cook too often. The room smelled slightly of an ashtray, which didn't surprise her given the amount of cigarettes he went through every day.

"Yeah...no kidding." In all the time she'd known him, she realized that she'd never seen where he lived. This place was pretty much what she would have expected, if not a bit small. Even for a normal person, it would be considered cramped. "It's...very cozy," she eventually remarked.

He chuckled. "Oh, let me offer you a cup of tea...just kidding! I don't want to spoil your appetite for all the food and drinks we'll be getting at the festival." He bumped his head yet again as he made his way to his closet, opening the door and rummaging around inside. "Hmm, it's in here somewhere...got it!" A moment later he pulled out a large blue yukata; the fabric was patterned with elaborate koi fish and completed by a blue-violet obi.

Aylin had to admit that the colors certainly suited him, and she nodded her approval. "Very nice."

"Great, right? I thought I'd never find one here that would fit me! Hmmm...wait, you know, I think there's something else inside this closet..." His expression became playful just then as he reached back into the closet and pretended to be surprised. "What? What's this? Why...it's ANOTHER KIMONO! How did this get here?!"

She watched as he pulled out another garment, this time much smaller and deeper blue in color, decorated in a design of flowers and leaves. The obi was golden yellow, emblazoned with tiny red birds. Her mouth had fallen ajar even as he presented it to her, not sure how to respond to the gesture.

"Here...a present. I managed to keep it safe this whole time!" He chuckled as he carefully placed it into her arms, searching her face eagerly for her reaction.

All Aylin could do for several moments was blink in stunned silence, although she quickly snapped out of it and glanced from the kimono to Rocinante. "I..." She shook her head and remembered her manners, managing to smile back at him. She had just discovered the _real_ reason he'd brought her back here. "This is...very nice of you. Thank you, Rocinante."

His grin became wider, if possible. "I can't wait to see it on you! I knew I had to get it for you the moment I saw it. The color matches your eyes," he added. His cheeks flushed slightly, realizing he'd practically admitted to having committed the color of her infinitely blue irises to memory, and he hurriedly continued, "Anyway, I know those can be hard to put on. I'll try to help you without setting anything on fire. Umm...you should probably go pee first."

Aylin laughed at that; it reminded her of something she used to have to tell her daughter. "I suppose you're right," she replied with a smirk, and disappeared into the bathroom with her kimono to begin getting ready.

As promised, Rocinante helped her with the finishing touches when she returned. He was actually very skilled with his hands, despite the fact that they were quite large and he was often so clumsy.

"If I grope you, it's by mistake," he joked as he tied her obi into a neat bow on her back. A moment later he stepped back to admire his work. "Wow...turn around and let me get a good look at you, Lin."

She smoothed out the fabric on the front of her kimono and then turned around to face him, visibly impressed. "Not bad...almost as if you've done this before," she said somewhat slyly.

Rocinante rubbed the back of his head, willing the flush in his cheeks to fade as he found himself stumbling over his words. "May-maybe I did...but...but you know, not for a girl I was dating or anything..." He coughed, pretending he'd simply had something stuck in his throat. His face softened a little as he explained, "My mother, actually...she taught me."

Aylin couldn't help but smile at that mention. "Then she taught you well," she replied, searching his face. He'd never really talked about his family, and in fact up until that moment she hadn't been certain that he even had one. But the somber look in his eyes just then told her that it wasn't the best time to press him for questions, so she let the topic shift, instead turning her attention onto the yukata he wore. "You don't look half bad, yourself."

"Thank you," he said as he offered her a smile. "Now, allow me to escort the most beautiful—" Suddenly he stopped short, nearly choking on his words while he turned red as a tomato. He used to spout accolades and compliments quite regularly, but since he had realized his feelings for her, he hadn't wanted those remarks to seem as if he were simply joking around like he always had. Things had changed. He couldn't say those things anymore without knowing that there was meaning behind them. So instead, he held out his arm for her, stooping so that she could actually reach it. "Well...I don't know about you, but I'm starving!"

Aylin wasn't sure how such an interaction could physically work, being that Rocinante was at least a good four feet taller than her. She gave him a pointed look that probably said, 'You have got to be joking.' In the end she settled for gently grasping his wrist, being that it was the highest part of his arm she could comfortably manage to hang on to.

"Far be it from me to stand in the way of you and food," she remarked as they headed out the door and down the stairs.

Rocinante felt his heart begin to hammer away in his chest upon the feeling of her small hand encircling his wrist and he gulped, hoping it hadn't been an audible sound.

Once they were outside, he bent closer to her level, placing a cigarette between his lips. "Light this for me, will you? And then we're going to get takoyaki and funnel cakes. You wouldn't judge a ten-foot man if he ate about twenty of them, would you?"

She snorted in amusement as she took his lighter and carefully guided the flame toward the cigarette. Aylin still hadn't the faintest idea what made him so flammable, but she had become accustomed to taking every precaution with him.

"Hah. Only if you get food all over your face," she replied. " _Then_ maybe a little bit of judging."

She winked at him and Rocinante felt his heart leap into his throat. It was all he could do not to accidentally stumble into the flame from the lighter. He took a long drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke upward as he straightened to his full height.

"Good, my timing is perfect. The sun's starting to set! Come on!"

The pair headed right into the middle of the festivities, where row upon row of stalls were lined up neatly; vendors selling their wares, festival food and souvenirs. There were several game booths as well.

Rocinante dragged Aylin to nearly every booth, where he gorged himself on various foods such as squid on a stick, takoyaki, teriyaki chicken, funnel cakes, dango and candied apples. Aylin gave in to his pestering and tried a funnel cake, then later on some ramen at another booth. They both slurped the noodles loudly, and Rocinante nearly ruined his new kimono when he spilled some of the broiling hot liquid.  He ate four bowls before he was satisfied.

Later, they ambled through the rest of the sellers’ booths and games, walking off some of the food and eventually finding one game in particular in which they attempted to catch goldfish. The paper nets became wet and broke so quickly that it was impossible for Rocinante to use one properly with his large hands. He’d nearly fallen into the makeshift pond as well, but Aylin managed to grab the back of his kimono just in time.

A couple hours had passed before they claimed a spot on the grassy field where the fireworks were to be held. Rocinante spread out a small blanket so they could sit and watch the show.

He glanced down to give Aylin a cheeky grin. "Perhaps you'd like to sit on my shoulders? You have to admit, the view would be great."

"It would," she agreed. "Probably almost as great as the inevitable fall back down to the ground." She laughed at that. Despite her reluctance to leave work that evening, she had actually been enjoying herself. She seated herself on one side of the blanket, smacking the spot beside her. "Come on, let's sit down while we wait. You're less accident-prone when you're already on the ground."

Rocinante sat down cross-legged beside her. "We probably have another ten minutes before it starts," he surmised as he planted his hands on either side of himself, leaning back slightly. One of his hands accidentally brushed Aylin's while she was doing the same thing. "Oh...sorry!"

His face flushed again, although in the back of his mind he had no real idea why he was apologizing. He wouldn't have thought twice about such a thing before. He repositioned his hand, unable to stop himself from wondering what it would be like to hold hers instead. Then he had a thought that perhaps he should just come out and tell her that he had feelings for her...that this was never meant to be a normal hang-out. But that came with the risk of ruining their relationship, and the thought made his heart turn cold. He didn't want to lose one of the best things that had ever happened to him.

Meanwhile, Aylin was completely oblivious to Rocinante's inner turmoil. She let a long moment of comfortable silence encompass them before letting out a soft sigh. "You know, I have to say, this was definitely a good idea you had. My office was feeling stuffier than usual lately. Plus, this reminds me of...nicer times."

"Really? How so?"

"My daughter used to love going to these," she replied as she tilted her head to look up at him. "Our town had a smaller festival than this one, pathetic in comparison actually, but every year she would insist that we go to the damn thing."

He smiled down at her. "That sounds so nice. You and your daughter must have been close. I wish I could meet her," he blurted out without thinking and then immediately backtracked, not giving her the chance to answer. "OH, I always have good ideas, are you crazy? Heh!" His latest cigarette had diminished all the way down to the butt and he tossed it over his shoulder, only to light up a fresh one a moment later.

Aylin rolled her eyes as she watched him blow a cloud of smoke far up into the air. "Yes, ALWAYS. Nevermind that half of them inevitably result in your own bodily harm somehow."

She paused in thought when her eyes traveled up to his face and her brow creased as though she were studying him carefully. He froze in his spot, unable to tear his gaze away while he wondered why she could possibly be looking at him so intently. Finally she shifted so that she was on her knees, a bit closer to his level. She leaned toward him and reached up, gently grabbing hold of his chin with one hand and wiping off a rogue smear of sauce from the corner of his mouth with her other hand.

"There. That was bothering me," she explained as she sat back down. Rocinante was so flustered by the sudden close proximity that his cigarette nearly fell out of his mouth. Fortunately for him, it was too dark for Aylin to see the multitude of red shades coloring his face. She did notice his expression, which prompted her to chuckle apologetically. "Sorry, it's a mom thing, I guess."

He eloquently stuttered, "Er...I, uh!! Thanks! I guess I must've looked crazy or something... Oh, oh...I think it's about to start, I heard that man up front announcing something!"

Aylin sat back down beside him, her attention shifting to the announcer at the front of the crowd. She noted that several crowds of people were now making their way over. "Good thing we claimed a spot already. Maybe I _will_ end up having to sit on your shoulders," she answered with a snort as a particularly tall family sat down ahead of them.

Rocinante coughed slightly just then, pretending it was because of his cigarette. "I wouldn't mind...or you could also sit _here_ ," he said as he gestured to his lap with flushed cheeks. He couldn't seem to make up his mind whether or not he was going to flirt with her. If he didn't, then she would probably suspect something.

The comment was met with an eye roll; her default response to his joking remarks. She opened her mouth to reply but just then the first crackle of fireworks echoed throughout the night sky. Aylin turned her attention to the bright lights decorating the darkness in reds, yellows, blues and greens. The spectacle was loud enough to drown out most of the noise from the crowd around them. She leaned back on her hands, her eyes never leaving the display.

Her shoulder lightly brushed against his arm and Rocinante became hyper-aware of the fact that she'd touched him, even if it had only been by accident. Although the sky was a bright and beautiful sight, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off of the woman beside him. _She_ was the only thing he wanted to look at. His own expression softened upon the carefree look on her face and before he knew it, he was smiling like an idiot.

Meanwhile, Aylin was oblivious to his attentions as she continued to watch the colorful explosions set the sky alight. She felt a wave of nostalgia as she watched, and some part of her couldn't help but wonder if she would ever be able to share something like it with her child again. Nonetheless, she couldn’t deny that she felt more relaxed at that moment than she had all week.

"It really is something else," she commented, raising her voice so that he could hear.

But Rocinante couldn't concur, as he hadn't even looked at the fireworks once. The only glimpse of them he'd seen were from the lights that reflected off of her face and in her eyes. He felt that his heart might burst just watching the peaceful expression she wore. He wanted to hold her, to reach out and just touch her, to brush a strand of hair back behind her ear and feel the soft skin of her cheek against his hand...

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even realize he'd just let out a long, melancholy sigh until Aylin glanced up at him and raised one eyebrow in question.

"Everything okay up there?"

His eyes widened in surprise, alarmed that she had heard him. "OH, UH...yeah, yeah of course! I just need a smoke, probably...that's all...you know how I get when I don't have delicious nicotine in my system at all times! Heh!" He laughed awkwardly, and with shaking hands he pulled out his pack of crumpled cigarettes, fumbling for a light as if to prove his point.

"Mmm," Aylin hummed agreeably as Rocinante barely managed to avoid setting himself aflame. "I've heard even Maynard won't mess with you when you're having withdrawals." She chuckled and turned her eyes back toward the spectacle, which appeared to be nearing the finale judging by the rate at which the explosives were being fired off.

He laughed at her statement. "Really? That cranky old codger? Hah. You know, actually I still can't tell how old he is." He dropped his gaze momentarily, his tone becoming sober as he attempted to test the waters a bit. "A lot of people say that about me, too. You always call me a kid, but...you know, I'm...I'm not..." Just then, Rocinante finally turned his head to look up at the display lighting the night sky and his eyes lit up as brightly as the fireworks. "Wow! This is awesome!"

She grinned at his reaction, and would have teased him about it after having just declared that he wasn't a kid, but the thundering spectacle would have completely swallowed up the sound of her voice anyway so she simply waited until the final explosions subsided.

As the air became thick with a blanket of smoke, the announcer officially declared the show to have ended. People began to file out of the field, talking loudly among one another.

Aylin casually stood and stretched her limbs before glancing down at her partner. "So...was it everything you'd hoped and dreamed it would be?"

Rocinante gave her an honest look. "Oh, it was more, Lin... To be honest, I only watched the fireworks a little. Your face was a much prettier sight." He felt the heat quickly rise in his cheeks as he broke eye contact, shifting nervously on the ground, not ready to get up quite yet.

She only gave him a stern look, playfully smacking his shoulder. "I'm serious. You were so hell-bent on coming out here, it'd be a shame if it wasn't what you thought."

He caught her hand as it slid off his shoulder. "I'm serious, too."

Rocinante's heart was practically in his throat and he gulped it back down. The din of all the spectators began to move further into the distance, leaving the two of them alone in near silence. He never broke eye contact with her, trying to decide if he had the nerve to actually say what was really on his mind.

"Lin..."

Aylin tilted her head slightly, looking at him with a quizzical expression on her face. He still gripped her hand and he appeared to be conflicted. "What? What is it?"

He gave her a slight smile, his eyes reflecting both amusement and mild frustration at the same time. "You really have no idea, do you? Heh..." He gave her hand a squeeze, searching her face as the smoke from his cigarette curled up into the air, mixing with that of all the fireworks.

She gently retracted her hand in order to cross her arms, not entirely sure what to think. He'd always been flirty for their entire working relationship and he sometimes liked to mess with her. She sighed. "Stop messing around. What do you want to do next? I think we missed a few food stands back there, actually..."

He shook his head. "I'm full. No more food. There's something I want to tell you."

"Alright. Let's hear it."

"You're making this really hard, you know." Rocinante exhaled a nervous laugh and rubbed the back of his head. Suddenly he froze and his eyes widened comically. "OH NO, MY CIGARETTE WAS IN THAT HAND!!"

"What the—?!"

Aylin looked on in alarm, watching on as he immediately threw himself onto his back and rolled several feet away in an effort to quell the small flame that had lit up his hair, finally coming to a stop face-down on the ground.

"Wow, I am so smooth..." He sighed and patted his hair, a bit singed in one spot on the back but otherwise undamaged.

She felt herself relax once she could see that he was unharmed. "Remember, _you_ are not part of the show." She smiled a little as she went over to offer him a hand. "Come on, let me see your hair."

Rocinante groaned in response, rolling over onto his back. He reached for her outstretched hand, gripping it firmly and before she had a chance to react, he had pulled her on top of his chest.

Aylin's eyes went wide in surprise as she suddenly found herself staring right into his eyes, face to face, while he took that moment to do what he had only been daydreaming about earlier and brushed back a wisp of red hair, touching her cheek gently as he did so.

"Lin, I..." He swallowed, finding it hard not to lose himself in her eyes. "I really like you a lot."

She could only blink back at him, feeling his large hand cupping her face, warm and callused and trembling ever so slightly. "Wh-what?"

Her mind went reeling; if this was some sort of joke, then he was taking it ridiculously far. But the genuine look in his eyes and the heat spreading over his cheeks told her that it was definitely not a game this time. She idly wondered if it ever _had_ been. Aylin's hands slid over his chest, finding her balance so that she could push herself back up, vaguely aware of every single taut muscle her fingers brushed across.

He was right; he _wasn’t_ a kid. _Of course_ she knew that.

"I'm guessing that wasn't a 'friends forever' declaration," she finally said, averting her gaze as she sat back on her heels.

Rocinante searched her face, trying to read her expression as he felt his heart attempt to pound its way right out of his chest. He certainly hadn't expected to hear her return the sentiment, of course. She obviously hadn't had even an inkling of what he felt for her until a moment ago.

"You're right...it wasn't. We _are_ friends, first and foremost. It's just...somewhere along the way, I started wanting more. Having you by my side is the best thing I've...ever had." He gave her a gentle smile, wishing she hadn't pulled away. He longed to hold her if only for a little while. "I don't expect anything from you, no...but I couldn't keep it inside. And I thought...well, maybe if you had some time to think about it, you might...might..." He turned an otherworldly shade of red and couldn't manage to get any more words out.

Aylin's eyebrows furrowed as her voice adopted a gentler tone. "Roci..." He looked so earnest in that moment that she just wasn't sure how to respond, partially stunned into silence by the unexpected. ‘Time to think about it,’ he'd said. She wasn't even sure that was something she ought to be thinking about at all. Friendship within the Syndicate was risky enough, say nothing of romantic relationships.

She swallowed and began again, "Listen, you are...a great guy. And a close friend. We work really well together, I think, but...that's all it can be." She hated having to say it. The look in his eyes was difficult to bear. More words spilled from her lips, as if anything else she could say could erase the hurt reflecting back at her. "It's really nothing personal. This is just how it has to be."

Rocinante looked downcast, cursing himself for having opened his mouth in the first place. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of it all. He'd assured her that he didn't expect anything from her, but at the same time he had been optimistic. Now he was faced with the prospect of things remaining as they were, being unable to take the next step with her that his heart so desperately longed for. He felt his chest contract, a hollow ache forming at the very core as he turned his back to her, shoulders hunching over.

"I see," was all he could say.

Aylin felt guilt flood through her as she watched him turn away, realizing at that moment that this was the reason he'd wanted them to come to the festival so badly. It had never been about simply hanging out as friends, or about food. She mentally chided herself, thinking she really ought to have known better. He was her best friend, the one person who had made life in the black market bearable. The last thing she'd wanted to do was hurt him.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled as she dragged a hand through her hair rather awkwardly.

He let out a heavy sigh. "No, I...should've known it was a mistake to tell you. Now I've ruined everything," he said with a small groan, holding his head between his hands. "You should just go home, Lin. I need to clear my head."

She bit down on her lip, feeling the tension as it washed over the both of them, unsure of what to do. Finally she nodded, deciding it was only right to give him some space. "Okay. Just...be careful, will you?"

And so it was not without some hesitation that she eventually turned and headed home, a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

 


	11. Never Gonna Give You Up

Back in his cramped apartment, Rocinante carefully sipped at a hot cup of tea. He hadn't bothered to fully remove his kimono, instead letting it hang down his back while he'd sat for a long while and allowed the initial hurt to burn through him.

He huffed in partial amusement; did she really think that things would just go back to normal after that kind of confession? He never would have said what he'd said unless he meant it completely.

And he _had_ meant it. Damn, had he ever meant it...

He tilted the cup back and drained the rest of the tea from it, now cold from having sat so long while he'd been lost in thought.

Rolling the cup back and forth in his hands, Rocinante pictured her face again. He recalled how close they had been and the shock in her eyes...how beautiful he thought she'd looked in that kimono. He couldn't help but feel enchanted by everything about her. It was useless to try and avoid thinking about it. He wanted to be by her side, always.

Setting the cup down onto the rickety wooden table nearby, he shed his kimono fully and hung it over the back of the chair.

"Damn...I love her," he whispered into the empty room, immediately feeling his chest fill up with warmth as he spoke the words.

He knew right then that no matter what happened, those feelings of his wouldn't change. There was no reason for them to. Perhaps she couldn't return the sentiment now, but that didn't necessarily mean she _never_ would. Stranger things had happened.

Rocinante felt that he just couldn't give up on her. She had become far too important to him. He was in too deep to turn back. And so in that moment, he decided that he was go right on loving her as much as he pleased; within the confines of common decency, of course. He simply wouldn't be afraid to show it.

He smiled to himself as he crawled into bed after brushing his teeth--at least as far in as he could manage, anyway, given the fact that both his legs hung off the bed entirely. He pulled the sheets up to his chin and fell into a blissful sleep.

He couldn't wait to see her the next morning.

oOo

A cold cup of coffee sat on Aylin's desk beside her as she attempted to concentrate on her work. She'd gone over the exact same document for the third time when she finally sighed and sat back in her chair. Her mind was simply unable to focus on the task. She'd even arrived a few hours earlier than her shift was supposed to begin after becoming fed up with the way that sleep had evaded her all night.

Aylin massaged her temples, her thoughts taking her back to the night before. She was worried about him. If she were being honest, she was also a little afraid that perhaps she had lost his friendship after that incident. He was her only friend. It was almost absurd how much she had come to rely on him over the past several months. She stared blankly at her cold cup of coffee, wondering if perhaps she had been a bit too harsh The way his face had looked right before she had left... She had only been honest with him, but after having been in this business for as long as she had, Aylin worried that she now lacked the delicate touch required to handle such situations.

These things _did_ occasionally happen between friends. Aylin was well aware of that. She had simply thought that those days were long past her.

A sharp rapping at the door just then caused her to glance up and make a face; it was likely Priscilla again with yet another armload of paperwork. Aylin didn't feel like dealing with that woman at the moment, and with a groan under her breath she used the desk to push herself up and marched over to the door. She fully intended to give the person on the other side a piece of her mind and she opened the door with a bit more force than was necessary, ready to snap at whoever had dared interrupt.

"Wha--?" Her glare disintegrated upon recognizing the tall man on the other side, and her voice immediately softened. "Rocinante..."

He gave her a grin that was almost blindingly bright. "Good morning, Lin!" Leaning over slightly, he presented her with a large bouquet of flowers inside a decorative vase, a variety of different types and colors. "For you."

For a moment, all Aylin could do was gawk at the gift in stunned confusion while her brain attempted to process the gesture. "I, uh..."

Rocinante chuckled, finding her perplexed expression awfully endearing. He had been hoping to surprise her like this. He'd woken up early and decided to head to a flower stand before work. After all, he figured a beautiful woman ought to be treated like the lady that she was. He had actually been hoping to arrive before her, but of course she'd beaten him...as usual.

Aylin's eyes traveled up to meet his. Hadn't she rejected him the night before? She would have thought that, at the very least, he would have avoided her for a while. "What? But...why?"

He gave her a warm smile in return. "Silly...I told you already. I like you. Nothing is ever going to change that." He wanted to reach out and touch her, just to put his hand on her shoulder, although he supposed it wouldn't be wise to release his hold on the vase of flowers that he'd miraculously managed to carry all the way to her office without incident.

She gaped back at him for a moment longer before finally she had a thought to take the vase from him so he didn't have to continue stooping to her level. She snapped out of her daze, gathering her wits enough to give him a stern look. "Are you out of your mind? I thought I made myself clear about this."

"You did," he replied, "but maybe I didn't make _myself_ clear. Listen, nothing you can say or do will change my feelings, Lin." He grinned at her again as he explained, "A man always does nice things for the woman he cares about. Besides, you didn't think we would just stop being friends, did you? Hah! You'll have to work much harder than that to chase me off."

Aylin's eyes widened slightly and she did a poor job of attempting to hide the relief that washed over her face upon hearing those words from him. She turned away quickly, as if it had suddenly become important to find a place to put the vase of colorful flowers.

In truth, she really didn't know what to say. She couldn't argue with him; he certainly had every right to feel the way that he felt, even if she thought that he shouldn't. She understood that he couldn't control his emotions any more than she could.

She set the vase onto the only empty spot on her desk, her fingers gently grazing over a few of the petals. Perhaps eventually he would realize the futility of it all...then he could move on.

Either that or he would leave.

Pursing her lips, Aylin finally turned back to face him, an air of uncertainty in her voice. "Oh? Is that a fact?"

Rocinante was entirely unfazed. "Yes it is, Lin. And I'm already pretty nice, right? So you can just start expecting pretty much _twice_ the niceness from me. Look..." He took a few steps toward her. "No hard feelings about that flat-out rejection last night." A wry chuckle escaped his lips while Aylin sighed. "But you have known me for a while now, and you should know how stubborn I am. It's a trait we both share, after all. So this is my declaration to you, Aylin Wild--" He gave her a cheeky grin. "Yes, I _do_ know your name! I'm not giving up on you. And I'm going to win you over, no matter how long it takes."

Her mouth had fallen slightly agape, surprised at how he didn't seem the least bit discouraged and, in fact, seemed more confident than ever. Did he really intend to chase after her forever?

But he wasn't finished. Taking advantage of her silence, he continued, "So...Lin, will you go out with me tonight? Dinner and a nice stroll by the docks. You know, the nice part of the docks and not the seedy side."

Aylin managed a strangled sound of protest. Surely he was just being naive. Feelings changed. _People_ changed. She had already lived it once before. After a few long seconds of silence, she let out a sigh, thinking he would simply have to learn the hard way. She glanced back up at him, not missing the fact that he'd taken extra time to look a bit nicer that morning. Furthermore, she thought she smelled a hint of cologne on him.

In spite of it all, she couldn't help but find it somewhat cute that he'd gone out of his way to spiff himself up for her.

Still, be that as it may, her answer remained the same.

"No," she said, raising her eyebrows just slightly, as if checking to be sure that he'd understood.

If he was disappointed, Rocinante showed virtually no sign of it on his face. "Alright, we'll do something else, then. I'm sure our coffee house will be expecting us. Oh, and I made some things for us to eat at lunch. When are you going on break today? I'll make sure Maynard lets me off at the same time."

The smile never left his face as he spouted such things, as if spending so much time together was the most natural thing in the world. And really, it was. Things had simply ended up that way before he'd even realized it. He adored seeing her face and its myriad of expressions every day.

Meanwhile, Aylin suddenly couldn't decide if she was more angry that she'd spent half the night tossing and turning, worrying about this fool, or glad that their friendship remained intact. In the end, she simply shook her head and threw her hands up.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with you, seriously. Fine, I'm taking my lunch at 11. I'll meet you outside like usual."

Rocinante practically beamed back at her. "Alright!! I'll see you later, then. Don't work too hard, okay?" He turned to head out the door, doubling back a moment to wink and blow a kiss in her direction.

She could only look on in absolute bewilderment, and then alarm as he kept walking and immediately smacked his head on the doorframe.

"Don't give yourself a damn concussion!"

oOo

Over the next few months, Rocinante made good on his promise and doubled his efforts to treat her with kindness; he would present her with flowers at least once a week, he would open doors for her, he'd walk her home even while she insisted she didn't need him to. He was very open with his affection, but never crossed a line or made her feel any sort of guilt over not reciprocating. It was natural. It was nice.

It made her a little uncomfortable.

All the little things were what had the most impact. He would sneak into her office and leave her little notes or small tokens. He seemed to make every effort to remember anything she ever said to him, no matter how small, something that especially surprised her. She wasn't used to someone paying that much attention to the things she said in passing, things she would never expect anyone to remember. Her favorite color, her favorite food, that one song that she hated and had absently commented on one time, but whenever it came on the radio he would immediately change it to another station. He picked up on her moods, knew when she wanted to sit in silence and also when she wanted to talk. Aylin even suspected that he'd been coming to her defense in her absence; one day she'd exchanged sharp words with a particularly difficult man who worked down in cargo, and the next day he was sporting a black eye that Rocinante had pretended _extra hard_ to know nothing about.

Maybe, she thought, the reason the whole thing made her uncomfortable was because actually, she _wasn't_ uncomfortable with any of those small gestures. In fact, she was becoming quite accustomed to them. In the back of her mind, she knew that she shouldn't. There were too many reasons. First: being involved with an associate was never a good idea, let alone an associate of the Blackburn Syndicate. Second: as well as she knew him, Aylin still felt that she barely knew him at all sometimes and the same could be said in reverse. Third: their age difference, of course, was also a factor, her being eleven years his senior. Although in truth, these days she hardly even thought of it when they were together. Fourth: Aylin had a daughter back home, and although he was well aware of this fact, she wasn't quite convinced that he knew what he was trying to get himself into.

But in spite of all those reasons, she couldn't help but look forward to being in his presence. She couldn't deny that since the day he'd stumbled into her life, he’d made it brighter. They worked within such a grim organization, but somehow Rocinante managed to make the days more fun. It was nice to have something she'd been avoiding ever since she'd gotten herself tangled up in the Syndicate...maybe even longer than that. He was her closest friend, her entire support system, and maybe...if she were truly being honest with herself...maybe if she let him, he could be so much more. Once, twice, a handful of times in the dark of night, amidst those hazy moments before falling asleep, Aylin may have let herself imagine what things could be like if she did...and then later on, convincing herself that those pretend moments of pure bliss were simply part of a strange dream she'd had.

It was crazy to even think that such a thing would work out, wasn't it? Aylin had to keep her priorities in order. Wasn't seeking her own happiness ultimately a selfish thing to do, when she was already sacrificing precious time that could have been spent with her own flesh and blood?

It was too late to go back now, of course. She was already bound and tethered to this world. Still, those thoughts weighed on the back of her mind, tugging on her heart. Telling her she should only be focused on carrying out the duty she had bestowed upon herself. Deviating from that path for the sake of her own selfish desires...

She couldn't. She _shouldn't_.

Rocinante deserved all the happiness in the world--of that she was convinced. But Aylin knew he would never find that kind of happiness so long as he insisted upon chaining himself to the likes of her.


	12. The Society

It wasn't long before the Syndicate's Inner Circle called on the pair—who now had become well established as partners—for a new assignment.   


The briefing was fairly straight-forward; they were to attend a secret gathering of several notorious black market dealers who met once a year at a place called Deville Island. It was a small island that looked deserted from the outside, but contained a secret underground mansion that was rather popular for these types of meetings of the inhabitants of the underworld.  
  
It would be a good opportunity, Scarlet explained, to make contact with other brokers in different businesses and to put out some feelers in other directions. Perhaps it could even open up doors in other markets or other places in the world.   
  
Aylin was good with words—it was the reason that half of her job consisted of negotiation—so it was no surprise that she’d been selected. She was never seen without the ten-foot-tall Rocinante by her side, and so it was a given that he would be accompanying her as well. He looked and acted tough on the regular, doubling as muscle and body guard though he could be quite charming when he wanted to. On the other end of the spectrum, he could be a complete asshole. As far as the Syndicate was concerned, he’d been a great pick overall for his demeanor and abilities. They encouraged the partnership between them two of them, as they balanced each other out quite well.  
  
For this particular mission, the Inner Circle had decided to send someone else with the pair; one of the Syndicate's own Curators, a demure woman by the name of Denise de LaCroix.  Denise wore long gloves and hated touching anything with her bare hands. She wore slinky dresses that hugged her waspish frame and was never seen without her makeup or the long strand of pearls she wore around her neck.  To most she was off-putting, but she could be very persuasive if the situation called for it, especially to those of the male gender.   
  
Denise called everyone ‘darling’ and always seemed to take the words of others with a grain of salt, never expecting people to fulfill their promises, and not always keeping her own. She only did what was best for herself and for the Syndicate.

The addition of a Curator was rather intriguing to Aylin, who later explained to Rocinante that it was somewhat rare for their rank to be seen outside of the Syndicate's walls. There were only ever about two or three of them within the entire organization at one time, and, given the fact that their main job was to care for the contents of the Syndicate's vault and guard its secrets with their lives, Aylin was a bit surprised that Blackburn felt he could spare one of them.

Just what exactly _was_ this mission about, anyway?   
  
After about three days of sailing, Denise declared loudly that she’d had enough of the ocean. She had no sea legs whatsoever, and spent most of the relatively short voyage expelling the contents of her stomach over the railing.   
  
“I simply can’t stand the sea, darling, this is why I usually stick close to home. I have a wide reach with my den den mushi, but it seems like they absolutely could not do this mission without me.” She winked up at Rocinante who was bent over slightly, offering her a glass of water.   
  
“Please drink this Miss Denise, you’re going to get dehydrated…”  
  
“Oh thank you, darling…” The woman reached for the glass, but her face immediately turned green, her cheeks puffing as she threw her torso over the top of the railing to vomit again.  
  
Finally, on the fourth day, they reached their destination, although Rocinante had to question whether or not they were actually on the right island (the ship's navigator assured him several times in succession that this was, indeed, Deville Island).  
  
It was heavily wooded, much different from their last landing place. He could hear various birds singing as they pulled up to the sun-bleached wooden dock. The air felt cool and crisp, but not chilly. Rocinante guessed that this was a spring island as he caught sight of a patch of wildflowers growing right where the dock met the land.

There was no sand here, only rocks, and lots and lots of woods. Beyond the docks was a short grassy plain covered in the wildflowers, but cutting through it was a well-worn path of hard-packed dirt that led straight into the middle of the forest. There, an obviously manicured road looked as though it led toward the center of the island.

Rocinante wondered just how people lived on this island. Were the trees like a protective bubble or were all the houses just stuck in-between the trees where they could fit?  Were there even houses at all? He scratched his head absent mindedly as he jumped over the side of the ship and bounded down the dock, immediately face-planting in the wildflowers.

“OOPS!” He rolled on his back and stared up into the sun, making a Rocinante-shaped indent in the grass and flowers and grinning like a fool. “Oh, I’m so glad I didn’t fall into the water!”

Aylin landed neatly on the dock, striding along its wooden planks until she reached the grassy area where he was still sprawled out on the ground. She tilted her head a moment, listening to the bird songs around them. Save for those, it was fairly quiet.

Denise walked down the gangway, swaying her hips as she smoked a cigarette mounted inside of a sleek black holder.

“Darlings, I’m relieved to see land again. I thought I was going to die.” Her voice came out flat and monotone as usual and Rocinante and Aylin were never sure whether to take her seriously. Denise was certainly a weird one, but the Syndicate considered her valuable so they were doing their best to get along with her.   
  
Denise joined the pair in the grassy field, wrinkling her nose as she stepped gingerly onto the ground, looking like she hated the outdoors just as much as she hated the sea.   
  
Aylin eyed her from the side, slightly amused. She paused for only a moment longer, staring into the trees ahead of them. "Looks like there's only one way in from here..."

She glanced down at Rocinante as he scrambled to his feet. After the last incident with the Alfredo Family, she felt more wary than ever, though at least they had arrived fully armed this time. What with the seedy sorts of people they would be expected to mingle with, there was simply no way any of them would have foregone a weapon.

Rocinante dusted off his pants and bowed, holding his hands out towards the path “Ladies first!” He bent down and picked a large yellow daisy as the two women went on ahead, though it didn't take him long to catch up with Aylin given his long legs. He swiftly placed the daisy into her hair and giggled at the action.

She gave him a stern look at this, to which he immediately covered his mouth, but her eyes betrayed the fact that she wasn’t actually mad.

As they entered the path Rocinante was on high alert, noting how although the birds could still be heard and some rustling from other wild animals in the brush here and there, it was extremely quiet. He supposed the woods were a great sound absorber.

“Hey Lin ,” he whispered, “um…so these guys weren’t meeting us at the dock? Did you get any other specific instructions? Kinda rude of them not to welcome us…hmmm.”

Aylin frowned as her eyes darted about their surroundings. "I was given an address. Supposedly there's a small town nestled in here." She shook her head as they continued along the dirt road. She could sense his unease, and couldn't fault him for it. "Believe it or not, I've negotiated deals in stranger locations. It's sketchy, but I suppose it needs to be in order to stay secret..."

"Oh don't fret, darling," Denise drawled as she took a long drag on her cigarette. "I've been to several of these affairs before. Just follow my lead. I do hope they managed to procure some decent spirits this time...last year it was quite a disaster and I was forced to ingest _boxed wine_. Can you imagine?"

"You didn't _have_ to drink it," Rocinante pointed out, only to have that statement met with harsh laughter.

"Clearly you've never been to such a function. If these things don't drive _you_ to drink as well, then I suppose I could consider you just as uncultured as the rest of them." She grimaced as she continued walking beside them.

The trek through the woods was largely uneventful. They moved in mostly silence until Rocinante pointed out something up ahead, his height giving him the best vantage point. As they drew closer, the three of them observed what appeared to be an abandoned village. Decaying wooden houses rose up amidst clumps of grassy overgrowth. They counted about seven of them, plus one site that had been burned to the ground. Nearly every window had been smashed and several of the rooftops were crumbling.

"Looks like nobody's been here in a long time," Rocinante observed, noting a rust-covered bicycle leaning against the decrepit dwelling nearest to them.

"The settlers must have been driven out when the brokers started gathering here," Aylin surmised, glancing around. "The entrance is actually in one of these old homes..."

Denise swaggered her way closer to the broken down buildings. “Tsk…it’s been awhile since I’ve been here…I never travel by sea if I can help it, you understand after that voyage, right darlings? I’m not looking forward to the one home either. Ah…let’s see…”

Rocinante and Aylin watched on as the Curator began walking up to each house, studying them intently for something that was anyone’s guess. She made little contemplative noises now and then, curls of smoke from her cigarette trailing after her as she ambled about.

Upon reaching the second to last house, she made an agreeable noise. “It’s this one, darlings," she said, gesturing toward the dilapidated wood. "You see? It’s got the Society symbol discreetly carved here. Pity we have to walk through all this rot and rubbish to get to the actual opening." She blew a cloud of smoke up over her head and gestured with a long, gloved finger toward the pair behind her. “Follow me…”

They followed her through the empty door frame, finding themselves having to wade through some rotted leaves and wood before they arrived at what was evidently the actual entrance to the secret meeting place.

The Society symbol she’d pointed out earlier was carved into the floor and most of the debris had been cleared away, letting them know that they were definitely not alone on this island. Denise pushed the heel of her shoe into a certain spot on the floor and the stone panel the Society symbol was carved on moved, revealing a descending staircase.

The woman smiled over her bare shoulder at her companions before swaggering down the staircase. Rocinante glanced down at Aylin, shrugging and then motioning for her to go on ahead.

Denise’s heels clacked loudly down the stairs, the sound bouncing off the close confines of the walls.

Rocinante gripped the banister for dear life, praying he wouldn’t lose his balance and end up bowling the ladies over and causing them all to avalanche down the stairs. It would be super embarrassing for the Syndicate if they made such an entrance.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, they saw the light at the end of the tunnel and stepped out into it.

“Maurice, darling!” Denise shouted as she held her hands up over her head and a middle-aged suavely dressed man rushed over and then took one of her hands down and kissed it.

“You look ravishing Miss de LaCroix,” Maurice answered, eyeing her appreciatively.

The woman smiled charmingly as she pulled another cigarette out of her purse and placed it into her fancy holder. “Oh, darling, it’s so kind of you to say so. I feel like I’ve just been through hell to get here. I simply would have died if this had been a summer island, I abhor humidity! Do you mind?“ She bent down slightly placing the holder between her lips and motioned for him to give her a light.

“With pleasure!” Maurice’s cheek’s flushed as he pulled out a golden lighter and lit the cigarette for her.

“Are Barney and Lizette here yet? I have so been wanting to see them again, I hope we weren’t TOO late to the party.”

Rocinante had to duck to enter the room—no surprise there—and was immediately astounded at the sight that greeted him. The dark staircase had led them into a huge underground building with vaulted ceilings at least eighteen feet high, which came as both a surprise and a relief to him. The tiled floor was extremely shiny, reflecting light off of the dozens of crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling.

Soft music drifted into the room from the main hall ahead, as well as the garbled voices of many people conversing among one another. Most people were dressed for the occasion, the men donning the best suits they owned and the women clad in sleek, fancy dresses. Denise fit right into the crowd, and it wasn't long before Aylin and Rocinante completely lost track of her.

"Looks like our babysitter wandered off," Aylin commented under her breath, her tone suggesting she was glad for that fact.

She had little doubt that Denise would be able to secure at least a dozen new partners that evening, as expected of a Curator within the Blackburn Syndicate. Still, she and Rocinante were _also_ expected to do their fair share of schmoozing. She glanced up at her partner, meeting his eyes and gesturing for him to come along with her.

Heading into the room ahead, the sounds of light jazz music filled their ears. Small groups of people congregated at round tables, many of them holding glasses filled with various alcoholic beverages from a large open bar nearby. Servers holding platters of appetizers were circulating the room, pausing every so often so that a guest could take a sample of food.

Rocinante nearly ran one of them over as he was gazing around the large ballroom. It was a show of extravagance and power; something that tugged at him, something from long ago at the back of his mind. He felt his vision cloud over for a moment, but then Aylin’s hand tugging on his long sleeve broke through the haze.

“Come on, let’s get this over with,” she said, looking a little embarrassed before pasting a huge, fake smile onto her face as she turned toward the giggling pair of socialites nearest her.

Rocinante grinned down at her, and they waded into the crowd together.

 

oOo

 

Several hours later, Aylin had finally caved into the temptation of partaking from the open bar. She swirled a particularly strong martini, feeling as though her lungs might catch on fire as she breathed in the smell and took the first sip. Socializing with all of the powerful, uppity people always drained her of her mental energy and so she was taking a much-needed breather.

They had made several good contacts, thanks to both Aylin's clever way with words and Rocinante's charm. Still, they hadn't been nearly as successful as Denise, who had managed to charm a great deal of the men and some of the women as well. She was constantly surrounded by a small throng of people who laughed at everything she said and paid rapt attention to whatever she was talking about.

Rocinante came up alongside Aylin, grinning at her when she glanced up. He was holding a tall glass filled with some orange and pink liquid that also sported several citrus fruit slices at the top.

“I like my booze to taste good,” he defended himself when he noticed the look she gave his beverage. He sat down at one of the stools and leaned down slightly to talk quietly in Aylin’s ear. “How much longer do you think this is going to be?”

Aylin sighed a bit more heavily than she intended, a warm feeling beginning to spread to her fingers and toes. "Long enough for you to finish that girly drink." She shrugged after a moment, watching a group of particularly well-dressed men and women as they laughed boisterously. "See those people over there...? That's the Society. Denise mentioned they hold a special event at the end of every gathering. Last year it was a raffle for billions of beli's worth of illegal drugs..." She trailed off as she took another slow sip of her drink.

Rocinante made a face and stared down into his drink before taking a sip. “Yeah, and thousands of ruined lives, I’d wager.” He gulped a few more sips down. “Wonder what it’ll be this year…I’d guess guns or bombs, maybe." He frowned after a moment. "It’s kind of exhausting, having to come up with answers to all their questions. I’d rather just not have to say anything at all.”

Aylin jabbed him in the side and shook her head. “As if you could ever keep your mouth shut.”

“Stranger things have been known to happen.” Rocinante grinned down at her. “Well, I guess we could think of this as a date…” His grin widened when she rolled her eyes. “It’s just too bad there isn’t any dancing. That dance floor is going to waste, though knowing me I’d end up with my ass on it instead of my feet. Mmph...”

He sipped his drink some more as he noted that the people Aylin had pointed out as the 'Society' were moving towards the front of the room where a podium was set up, a set of large wooden double doors behind it. He supposed that beyond those doors must be where they were keeping this year’s prize.

The man called Maurice, whom Denise had greeted earlier, stepped up to the podium and pulled the receiver off a den den mushi microphone.

“Ladies and Gentlemen," he began, the sound of his booming voice quieting the crowd, "allow me to personally welcome you all to the Society's annual gathering. It's because of patrons such as yourselves that we've been able to hold these events each year, and so with that in mind, I’d like to thank each and every one of you for coming out tonight. I hope you’ve been enjoying yourselves and meeting some new people, rubbing elbows and the like! As I'm sure you all know, our end-of-meeting raffles are always highly anticipated. This one will not disappoint! In fact, I'm confident you’ll find that this year’s prize is the best one yet.” He gestured behind him toward the wooden double-doors, giving a nod to two younger men in matching tuxedos.

They immediately moved to open up the large, ornate doors.

Rocinante leaned forward in anticipation, only for the next emotion he felt to be horror.

The prize was not drugs, nor was it guns or bombs.

It was _people_.

Three young women, two young men, an older man with a scraggly gray beard, and about five small children of varying ages and genders. They were all in chains, with cuffs around their necks, wrists, and ankles. Their heads were all hanging down, and many of them sported bruises or black eyes. Even the children were completely silent, their lips trembling with fear and eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Maurice only continued to grin as his eyes swept over the crowd, absolutely relishing in their horrifyingly positive reactions to his so-called prizes. “That’s right! Premium slaves!!! These young ladies can cook and clean, and service you in other ways I’m sure…” He leered at the one closest to him. “These two young men are strong, with good solid backs, you might even want to use them as your own personal steeds! As for this old codger here, he may not look like much, but he was once a tinkerer, and he has the finest hands for craftsmanship on the Grand Line. These young ones here have minds and bodies ripe for molding as well, to suit your needs. So what do you all think of this year’s haul, eh? Pretty amazing, right?! Yes, indeed, the Society certainly does aim to please!”

Maurice bowed deeply as the crowd erupted into applause and cheers and people nearby began whispering excitedly.

The sound of glass breaking beside him was the only thing that caused Rocinante to tear his eyes away from the sick showcase of terrified innocents. Upon glancing down, he saw that Aylin's glass had slipped from her fingers and was now in hundreds of glittering pieces on the floor. Her eyes remained fixated on the display on the stage before them, almost as though she hadn't even noticed.

Maurice was making a big show of holding up a large box full of raffle tickets that the guests had filled out, eliciting much excitement from the crowd as he shook it back and forth.

"Ooh, I hope I win this year!" A man nearby said loudly. "My slave is getting too sick to work, it's pathetic!"

Another man concurred, "Sometimes they just don't last very long, you know! I'd love to take that woman in red home with me!" He grinned lecherously at his companion, who laughed heartily as if he'd just heard the most charming thing.

Aylin swallowed thickly, her already-pale cheeks now white as a sheet. "I need to use the bathroom," she muttered flatly as she turned on her heel, stiffly walking off toward the restrooms at a hurried pace.

 Rocinante whipped his head around, following her retreating figure until she disappeared into another room, not missing the way her steps faltered ever so slightly. Shocked and sickened as he was by this turn of events, he couldn't help the small swell of relief in his chest upon seeing Aylin show a bit of real emotion at the injustice of slavery. To him, it was further proof she wasn’t like the other underworld types he'd encountered. Proof that she had higher moral standards, and he couldn't help but wonder yet again just how someone like her had ended up in this business.

He sat there a few moments longer, idly listening in on the excitable conversations happening around him. Men and women alike were overjoyed by the surprise human raffle.

Living beings, treated as though they were nothing more than possessions.

_Toys._

Carefully, he set his drink down on the bar behind him, thinking quickly. What should he do? Leave well enough alone? He didn’t know these people, and it wasn’t as though such things didn’t already happen all the time. More importantly, if he were to do anything, then the mission and possibly his entire cover could become compromised.

But if he were to act, then this moment was the time to do so.

Could he really just ignore this?

Rocinante hesitated for a split second longer before glancing back up to where the slaves were chained. Suddenly he felt a surge of anger. 

_Never._

He was a marine, after all, undercover or not. It was his job to protect innocent people. He couldn’t just let slaves be sold _right under his nose_ when there was something he could do to stop it.

A plan was just beginning to hatch in his mind. He looked over his shoulder, checking to see if Aylin was on her way back from the bathroom.

She wasn’t. _Good_.

Rocinante tapped his chest, mumbling the word ‘Calm’ as he silently slipped away from the crowd.

 


	13. Magic Man

Aylin pushed the door of the restroom open, a slight stagger in her step as she exited. Breathing deeply, she willed the lingering nausea to pass, mentally cursing the Inner Circle for sending her on this assignment. They had probably known all along exactly what she and Rocinante would be walking into. Was this whole thing just some twisted sort of test?

She paused before returning to the ballroom. Her hand clutched the doorframe, jaw tensing as she overheard Maurice call out a name. The crowd erupted into equal parts cheering and jeering. Aylin peered around the doorway to watch as a jubilant, mustached man strutted his way to the stage. She swallowed back the bile that rose up in her throat when he approached his prize, who trembled and shrunk back a few steps only to be shoved forward by Maurice.

A little girl. She looked to be no more than six years old. Condemned to a life of servitude or possibly worse. Likely ripped away from her family and everything she'd ever known. The black and blue bruising around one of the girl’s eyes told the tale of a child who was beaten when she protested and mocked when she cried.

The wooden frame splintered slightly under Aylin's tightening grip. Maurice ushered the winner away and the girl was left on stage to be claimed after the raffle had finished.

Aylin's eyes searched the crowd for her companion, hoping that he had fared alright after her sudden departure. She caught sight of Denise, clapping animatedly with her head thrown back in delight and surrounded by yet another group of admirers, unsurprisingly. But as her eyes swept the room, she realized that Rocinante was not by the bar where she had left him.

"Damn it," she cursed silently, feeling a jolt of worry. Where had he gone off to? Had he been looking for her and ended up lost somewhere?

She pursed her lips, pushing herself off the doorframe and heading back into the ballroom.

Wading through the crowd, Aylin tried to keep her focus on finding her partner and certainly not on the bits of conversation that teased at her ears, or Maurice's jovial tone as he prepared to announce the next winner. She no longer cared about the mission or the consequences. She was prepared to walk out, with or _without_ Denise.

She was making her way back toward the bar where she and Rocinante had been standing for most of the evening, hoping that he would reappear shortly, when all of a sudden the lights flickered.

Then the entire room went dark.

There came a collective gasp as some people expressed anger upon the festivities being interrupted while others looked around in the blackness as if they would be able to find the cause of it. Bodies began bumping into each other.

“What the hell is happening?”

“This is bullshit! I can’t see a thing!”

“Hey!! What about the auction?”

“Everyone, please,” Maurice shouted from the stage over the uproarious crowd, “let’s all remain calm! I have our security team looking into the issue and I assure you, this will be resolved in short order!”

Aylin weaved around people in her path as best she could, not wanting to be stuck in the middle of the ballroom if a mass panic were to ensue.

She had to find Rocinante.

 

oOo

 

Amidst the darkness, the shouts and the beginnings of chaos, a man who would usually stand out in any crowd went unseen. He purposefully made his wa wo up to the front of the ballroom by sidling along the walls so as to remain undetected, and, despite being bumped into a few times, nobody noticed him at all. Thankfully, they were far too concerned about their own wellbeing to pay any mind to a suspicious stranger.

Without any light to guide him, he finally reached the group of frightened slaves. He could see them a bit better as he drew closer and his eyes gradually adjusted to the dark. The children were whimpering, huddled together in a small group while the women and men wore terrified expressions on their faces as they looked around frantically.

Rocinante knew that whatever he did, he had to do it quickly—the light could return at any moment and put an end to his effort to change the fates of these innocent people.

Stepping up to the stage, the unwieldy man stumbled once before regaining his footing. He released the Calm spell in favor of creating a soundless bubble around himself and the slaves.

Maurice, who was still fruitlessly shouting from behind the podium for everyone to settle down, never noticed what was happening just behind him.

Reaching behind his back, Rocinante withdrew the flintlock pistol he had hidden in the band of his jeans and snuck closer to the podium. In one swift motion, he used the butt of his gun to bash the blathering Maurice over the head. The man immediately crumpled to the ground without another sound, and Rocinante quickly squatted beside him to search his pockets, feeling rather triumphant when he retrieved a handful of keys.

The tall man turned toward the group of frightened people behind him. He held the key ring up, jingling it with a smile.

Terrified and understandably distrustful, the slaves shrank back in horror, some of them still crying.

“It’s okay,” Rocinante assured them as gently as he could manage, “I’m a friend.”

To prove his point, he then fired his gun several more times, aiming at one of the chandeliers on the ceiling. The chain broke and the enormous crystal fixture came crashing down amid the sound of metal bending, glass tinkling, and more screaming as patrons rushed to clear the area.

Inside the bubble, of course, the slaves didn’t hear any of the commotion. They all stared back at him with wide, cautious eyes.

Carefully, Rocinante squatted down beside the children. They initially shrank back, but he held out his hand to them in a gesture of peace.

“Hey,” he said softly, “it’s going to be okay. I’m going to get you out of here, I promise.”

A little boy was the first to respond, blinking up at the tall man in wonder as he tentatively reached forward to shake hands. “Mister, how did you make all the noise go away?”

Rocinante grinned at the boy and squeezed his tiny hand. “I’m a Magic Man!” He proclaimed while wearing a goofy smile on his face. “Say, let me see those cuffs. We need to get them off.”

The boy acquiesced to the request and Rocinante set to work. He had to try almost every key on the ring until he found the one that opened the boy’s cuffs. Once they had fallen to the floor, the other slaves were quick to gather around and await their turns.

Everyone was freed in short order, and then Rocinante motioned for them to follow him along the wall that lead to the outer hall.

“We’re looking for a really pretty woman with red hair,” he instructed as his eyes swept over the darkened room in vain, “though I don’t know if we’ll be able to see her in the dark… Ah, well. Everyone hold hands and stick close!”

Some of the children were clinging to his arms and legs by the time the group had made it out into the main hall. Rocinante urged them faster, and they continued the trek toward the exit.

“Everyone’s doing great,” he encouraged when the children whimpered in fear. “Don’t worry, we’re almost there!”

 

oOo

 

The Society's security guards were on the case now. Aylin could tell by the number of people being diverted from entering the hallways and escaping the ballroom.

"They're blocking our exits!!" A panicked woman shouted right before she tripped over Aylin's crouched form, sprawling onto the floor several feet away.

"This is absurd!!" A man yelled from nearby. "How dare they treat us this way!"

"Won't someone just tell us what's going on?!" Came the cry of another.

Aylin rolled the last few feet until she bumped into the wall, where she remained for a moment while regaining her bearings.

She had a good guess as to what was happening; it was not uncommon for the gatherings of these organizations to be interrupted by rivals. So many of the underground's most valuable people together in one place? It was an assassin's dream come true. 

Her eyes darted about the dark room, watching shadowy figures dash past in every direction.

Who was responsible? Who—or what—were they after? If she had to guess, her money was on one of the Society members. They had a list about a mile long of people they'd double-crossed or wronged in the past.

She inched along the wall, making her way toward the nearest exit. There were several loud pops from somewhere within the crowd, indicating that things had just taken a violent turn. People would be fighting blindly, desperately trying to escape their underground prison. Reaching the doorway, Aylin grabbed a throwing knife from her pouch and flung it into the thigh of the armed security guard who was blocking it. He cried out and doubled over, giving her just enough time to dive past him and into the empty hallway ahead.

Rolling to her feet, the redhead sprinted to the end of the hall, leaving the cacophony of the ballroom behind. Her mind was racing. She couldn't care less about the Society or anyone else affiliated with them for that matter. If they were under attack, then she would simply chalk it up to just desserts for all their selfish misdeeds. But Rocinante was still in the building somewhere and she couldn't leave without him. She felt a flash of frustration. Where the hell could he have gone? Couldn't he have just stayed in the spot she'd left him? For crying out loud, she had been gone for less than ten minutes!

Aylin had to remind herself that he was no fool, though. Surely he'd found a way out of the chaos. Surely he hadn't tripped and fallen onto the blade of a security guard. Surely he was not lying dead on the ballroom floor with a bullet in his skull.

Turning the corner, she descended upon another security guard and kicked his legs from under him, then quickly knocking him unconscious. She'd barely straightened up when a voice called out from behind.

"Lin!"

She whirled around. "Rocinante! Where the _hell_ have you--" The question died on her lips when she laid eyes on him. In the darkness she could make out the forms of several people hiding behind him...and two children clinging to his legs. Her eyes widened as she put two and two together in an instant. "You...are they...?" Aylin suddenly felt an overwhelming warmth in her chest despite the situation.

Rocinante nodded as he drew closer, patting one of the children that was latched onto him on the head. “I’m getting them out of here. We can’t let these assholes raffle them off. They're people, not objects!”

Aylin nodded, momentarily struck by admiration for her partner. The lights having been cut out and the ensuing chaos in the ballroom...had it all been Rocinante's doing?

"I agree," she finally managed to say.

“I want my mommy…” The little girl attached to his leg began to wail and Rocinante picked her up, bringing her closer to his face.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetie! Don’t worry, I will make sure that you get back to your mommy safe and sound. You all come with me for now, okay?” He smiled and the little girl wiped her tears with the palms of her hands and nodded. “Good! Alright everyone, this is my partner, Miss Lin. She’ll help you, too!” Rocinante grinned.

"That's right," Aylin gave them a reassuring smile. "We're all getting out of here safely." Her eyes traveled from the children surrounding the tall blonde to the men and women gathered nervously behind him. "But we need to get moving. Things are getting serious in here."

The walls of the underground building began to shake. They couldn’t hear the noise from inside Rocinante’s soundless bubble, but they could definitely feel it.

“Shit,” Rocinante cursed under his breath. “They must be trying to do crowd control with weapons…either that or someone panicked. Who knows how many weapons they have hidden down here?”

"It's both," Aylin replied as the group continued on down the hall. "People think they're being attacked by a rival who snuck into the gathering. Security is everywhere...they're trying to make sure no potential culprit escapes...which means getting violent with their own guests..."

Up ahead, they approached a group of heavily armed guards making their way down the hall. Aylin took one of them out with a well-aimed throwing knife, while several silent shots from Rocinante's pistol took the others out of commission. They fell to the floor without a single sound, never getting the chance to turn their weapons onto the other group or even shout for help.

Aylin quickly bent to grab up one of their handguns as they passed, instructing the other adults to do the same. Some were hesitant, while others were more than eager to take up arms and defend themselves and the children against attackers.

They navigated the darkness in silence, searching for the stairs that would lead them to the exit. Aylin worried that the passage may be unusable at this point, either due to immense crowding or accidental demolition. But it was the only exit they knew of, so they would have to try it.

When they finally reached the opening, Rocinante breathed a sigh of relief. The walls shuddered again, this time bits of the ceiling and what looked like dirt falling down on top of them.

Rocinante’s eyes widened as he gestured for everyone to come forward so he could guide them outside quickly.

Suddenly, a little girl’s panicked voice rose up from the group. “Mr. Magic Man!!! CLARA’S MISSING!”

“Wh-what!? Missing?!”

Aylin did a quick head count from where she stood toward the back of the group. “She’s right,” she affirmed after a moment. “There’s someone missing.”

Rocinante’s eyes darted around the room and then he nodded to the group. “Okay, don’t worry, we won’t leave her!”

He turned around, and everyone followed closely at his heels. They were all in this together now, and moved as if they were one entity. Rocinante dispelled the soundless bubble and everyone immediately all began calling out for the young girl.

It wasn’t long before a whimper caught his attention. It was coming from the right, leading into one of the many rooms in the underground facility. He followed the noise, dashing inside while Aylin held back the rest of the group, keeping them out of harm’s way.

“Clara!” Rocinante called out. “Clara, come out! We want to help you!”

The walls shook again, and this time they could hear the noise very clearly.

“I’m scared…” The little girl’s voice came from underneath the large mahogany desk that was in the center of the room.

The tall blond approached the desk carefully, kneeling down so he could see the girl. He frowned, noting the black eye and tearstained face. No little girl should ever have to go through something like this…

He extended his hand to her. “It’s okay…I’m going to help you, Clara.”

She looked up at him, still weeping as she hesitated. A loud rumble from above caused her to shrink back in fear.

“Shhhh it’s okay,” he said, holding out his hand encouragingly. "Come on, let's get out of he—”

"HEY! YOU!!"

"He's with one of the slaves!"

Rocinante's eyes snapped up to see several guards standing in the doorway opposite the one from which he’d entered, heavy weapons aimed at him.

"Shit..."

A split second later, the room erupted into a war zone as shots were fired left and right, the noise extinguishing every other sound in the vicinity. Rocinante hit the floor, flipping the desk onto its side to shield the child from harm while he returned fire.

From the doorway, Aylin and the other adults worked together, peering around the wall to take shots at the enemy. They had to duck suddenly as an explosion rattled the whole area. A hot cloud of flames burst from the doorway, nearly sizzling their skin.

Aylin rounded the corner the moment it passed. "Rocinante!!"

Bullets riddled the walls and the ceiling practically trembled with effort, several support beams having been blown out of place. Most of the room was now charred and one wall had been completely knocked in. There was a scuffling from behind the blackened desk and then Rocinante emerged, looking a bit beaten up but otherwise no worse for wear.

"I'm okay," he assured her as she ran up to join him. He glanced around for the child he'd been protecting, and upon no sign of her, his eyes went wide. "No... Where'd she go?! Clara!"

Aylin's brow creased in worry. "She must have run off during the fighting..."

He nodded in agreement. "We have to find her!"

Just then, the entire building shook again. The floor vibrated so hard that it sent the furniture every which way. The large bookcase in the corner fell forward, spilling its contents all over the floor.

“Rocinante, this place is going to collapse. Whatever we do, we have to be quick.”

Aylin’s voice sounded firm and authoritative. He could tell that she was keeping her panic in check in order to keep the group together and calm. She was such a strong woman; it was one of the many things he admired about her.

"Right. So then, I'll—”

Before he could get another word out, large pieces of debris began raining down from above.  There came a loud groan as the ceiling gave way. A support beam came crashing down and would have taken Aylin out if Rocinante hadn't thought to shove her out of its path.

"Go!" He shouted over the noise as more debris effectively trapped him within the room. "Take the others to safety!"

Aylin balked. "What?! I'm not leaving you here, are you crazy?!"

"I'll find another way out!" He assured her as the room continued to cave in around him, sending dust billowing into the air. She hesitated, prompting him to add, "Trust me! Just take them and go! There's no time!"

He was right, but she still didn't like it. Aylin gave a short nod, looking conflicted as she took a few halting steps backward before wrenching her eyes from his and turning to the group of people awaiting orders.

She gave them a nod. "Let's go. We're heading for the stairs!"

One of the kids let out a whimper. "But...but what about the Magic Man? He saved us... I don't want him to die!"

Aylin took his hand as they all began to sprint for the exit. "He won't. He's very strong. He'll be right behind us!"

At least she hoped he would…

 

oOo

 

Rocinante coughed; the ceiling caving in had kicked up a large cloud of dust, and he vigorously waved his hand in front of his face to clear it away. He momentarily thought about how funny it was that he would voluntarily inhale smoke all the time, but _this_ bothered him.

Picking his way through the rubble, he stumbled over a downed beam and what looked like the remains of an expensive vase.

“Clara!!!” He called out, cupping a hand around his mouth. “ClaraaaaaAAAAA!” Rocinante flailed in an effort to keep his balance when his foot became tangled up in something.

He bent down to extricate himself and noticed it was the receiver to a den den mushi. He pulled on the cord, following it to its source. The small snail had been tipped over onto its side in all the destruction but appeared otherwise unharmed.

Thinking to take advantage of this finding, Rocinante quickly began dialing a familiar number.

He had to send aid for these slaves. If he and Aylin brought them back to the Syndicate, they’d just stay on the market. He couldn’t let that happen.

The den den mushi rang several times and Rocinante was beginning to worry when no one picked up. Finally he heard the familiar voice on the other end, and he nearly screamed into the receiver with relief.

“BAGELS!!! YOU’RE THERE!” He laughed semi-hysterically. In the background he could hear yelling and noise as well.

There was slight surprise in Sengoku's voice. "Muffins? What's happening? It sounds as if you're in the middle of a warzone!"

“Yeah about that…I need your help. My partner and I went to a Society meeting…” He paused while Sengoku took this information in. “They had eleven slaves that they were raffling off and I kind of…shut the party down to save them. I can’t bring them back to the Syndicate. Can you send a ship for pickup?”

"I certainly can," came the man's reply. "Where are you?"

Rocinante rattled off the coordinates they’d used to navigate to the island. ”I’ll make sure this place goes down for good. I just have one straggler I need to find.”

"Alright, Muffins. I'll send word to the nearest base and have them dispatch a warship immediately. Give me an update when you make it out of there, will you?"

"Roger that," the blonde replied. "Thanks, Bagels!" With no more time to spare, he hung up and returned to his search, dodging falling chunks of ceiling as he moved on to another room.

 

oOo

 

The group of eleven waited, crouching behind the brush and trees as they watched hundreds of people fleeing the underground building like rats off a burning ship. Smoke spewed into the air from the opening of the basement as more and more panicked people squeezed their way through the exit, trampling each other in their haste to escape.

Aylin felt it was by sheer stroke of luck that she and all the prisoners managed to make it outside, although hiding within the throngs of people had been easier than she'd thought; nobody cared about another dozen bodies amidst the commotion and hysteria. She was still grasping the hand of the small boy who had protested leaving Rocinante behind, and although her words had instilled confidence in him that her partner would return to the group, Aylin was having some difficulty believing it herself.

Her eyes scanned each person who came sprinting from the ruined pile of wood and each time they weren't who she was searching for, worry twisted her insides into tighter knots.

She knew she shouldn't have left him. But what else could she have done? It was the right thing to do to save the ten  people gathered around her. It just wasn't logical for an entire group of people to all die while trying to save one child. He'd been right to do what he had done. Aylin surmised she would have handled things the exact same way.

She felt a gentle tug on her hand and was hesitant to look away from the scene, but when the gesture became more persistent she reluctantly glanced down at the little boy by her side.

"Are you worried about him?" The boy asked innocently. When she didn't reply, he continued, "He'll come back. You said he's really strong. And he's really nice. He made us feel better when we were scared. He said he's a Magic Man, so he'll definitely be okay," he stated in the matter-of-fact way that only a child can manage.

Aylin couldn't help but smile softly. Rocinante's actions had certainly had an impact on these kids. She knelt down beside the boy, nodding back at him and gently ruffling his hair. "You're absolutely right, honey."

They continued to watch as the crowd gradually began to thin. Most of the people sported serious injuries and a great deal of them had to be supported by others in order to walk.

Aylin felt her anxiety spike once more. It had been too long. He should have returned already.

Just then, a thunderous _'boom'_ shook the ground, knocking several of the group over as they attempted to cover their ears from the sound. Seconds later, a ball of flames exploded from the site of the entrance. It burned so bright and so hot that everyone flinched away from it as their skin seared, shielding their eyes while the night lit up like a fireworks festival.

The children cried out in terror and all four of them clutched Aylin's legs, while the adults gripped each other for support close by. Flames rose up to lick the sky, reaching for the stars as the smoke swelled upward. The blaze burned on, some stragglers catching fire as they ran screaming for safety.

Aylin's eyes were trained on the flames, watching them in abject horror as her imagination conjured up an outcome she'd been dreading the most.

He couldn't be...

She gulped, fighting back the sudden tears that sprang to her eyes as she watched the fire spread to some of the other buildings.

They needed to get out of there, away from the fire, but she was frozen to her spot. Rooted to the ground. She couldn't feel her legs.

"Hey, look! Look!" A child's voice broke through her state of emotional compromise just then. "Look! There he is!"

“The Magic Man!”

Aylin's gaze snapped back to the site that once was the entrance to the Society's gathering grounds. Her eyes went wide as saucers when she saw him.

Rocinante's tall figure strode away from the inferno and toward the forest. The burning ball of flames behind him illuminated his form, shading him in hues of orange and red as he made his way past the wreckage. Looking a bit worse for wear, his shirt was torn to shreds and hung from his large frame, showing several cuts and gashes that he'd endured during his search for the child...which, as they could plainly see, had been a success; the little girl, Clara, was cradled gently in the crook of one of his arms. She appeared scared, but unharmed.

Aylin hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until she suddenly exhaled, gasping as relief hit her like a tidal wave. She stood up straight so that he would see her, waving an arm to catch his attention.

“LIN!” Rocinante yelled over the din as he jogged over to the woman, still carefully holding Clara. He was happy to see that she’d kept the group together and everyone was unharmed. He wanted to hug her so badly, but instead he smiled broadly and clamped his free hand down on her shoulder for a moment.

“We need to get out of here….” Rocinante placed the little girl down and she ran to the other children who chattered excitedly about the explosion they had seen just now. “Before everything went to hell, I heard a broadcast in the building. One of those Society assholes used an emergency frequency to call in the marines…”

They exchanged understanding glances. They would need to leave the freed people behind and make their own escape. After all, the group would be safe with the marines, and with their help they’d undoubtedly be able to return home to their families.

The older man of the group hobbled towards the two of them. “Thank you..so much…”

Rocinante reached down to shake his hand firmly. “It was the right thing to do,” he said quietly. “Listen, can you keep these people together and safe? There’s a marine ship coming and they can help you, but we can’t go with you…”

The man looked thoughtful but only momentarily. “Of course. I understand. But even if the marines consider the two of you to be criminals, know that I think of you as nothing less than heroes.” He gave them a gap-toothed smile as he began rounding up the children, explaining that they needed to go somewhere safer and near the shore and promising them maybe they’d get to splash around in the water and collect some shiny rocks.

The children agreed readily, but not before they all dog-piled on Rocinante to give him hugs. Once he knelt down for better access, the little girl Clara gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“BYE, MAGIC MAN!” The young boy waved over his shoulder as the older gentleman began leading the group to safety.

Rocinante smiled after them, waving his hand over his head until he remembered something and his eyes widened. “SHIT!”

Aylin became alarmed. “What? What is it?”

A pained look crossed the tall man’s face. “Denise,” he squeaked out.

As if on cue, a woman covered in ash, her once immaculate dress now in tatters, sauntered over to them. That walk was unmistakable. One hand held a pair of high heels by their straps.

“Darlings…” She coughed, a high-pitched sound that almost sounded fake. Her hair was wild, sticking up in every which direction and her cigarette holder was empty, though she still held it as if she were using it. “What a terrible party. Rocinante, you look like death warmed over. These Society affairs have really gone downhill in recent years.” She tossed her head, coughing again.

Rocinante leaned forward. “Are you okay, Miss De LaCroix?”

“Me? Oh I live for danger. To be honest with you, darling, I’m more scared of getting back on that blasted ship for another four days than this tiny bonfire.”

Aylin sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's been a long night. We should get back to the ship and hightail it out of here before the marines show up. With a smoke signal as big as this one, it probably won't take long," she said as she gestured toward the mass of flames behind them.

"Very well, darling," Denise replied as she swaggered past them toward the path that would lead to the ship they had sailed in on. "I do hope the Society chooses a nicer location next year..."

Aylin and Rocinante exchanged looks and shrugged slightly before following after her.

 

oOo

 

They managed to get on board the ship and set sail before the marine warship arrived; in fact, Aylin was just able to see it approach the island from a pair of binoculars as they sailed further and further out to sea, thanks to the fire that still lit up much of the night.

She put the binoculars away and pushed back from the railing, giving her partner a nod. "They're safe now. I just saw it."

Rocinante breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Erm...now that I think about it, isn't it strange that one of those people would send an emergency signal to the marines? I mean, you'd think they wouldn't want to be caught..."

"Oh, not really. It might surprise you how many apparently ‘squeaky clean’ folks are secretly up to no good. They probably figured they could easily get away with it," Aylin answered, never suspecting that it was the man beside her who had been the one to alert the marines. She looked up at him, taking note of all his injuries. Most of them were minor cuts and scrapes, although he had a sizeable gash on his side and a large burn on one of his bare shoulders. "That looks like it hurts...come on, let's go inside and get you some bandages. And...a shirt," she added, thankful for the darkness that masked the sudden flush in her cheeks.

Rocinante smiled at her. “Oh, I’m okay! Maybe we should take care of Denise first…”

But for once the woman was absent from the deck, having immediately retired to her quarters inside the ship. She was probably preening and primping as they spoke, he surmised.

Rocinante followed Aylin inside the ship to the common room that as adjoined to the galley, flopping himself down on the hard wooden bench at the table where everyone ate dinner. Except Denise, who had a soft cushy armchair with a table big enough for her tea set in the corner.

The man studied Aylin’s back as she went for the med kit. She seemed a bit tense, but he supposed that was only natural after what they’d been through. It seemed like they were always getting into these terrible scrapes. Rocinante smiled wider. This certainly hadn’t been the kind of life he expected to live in the Blackburn Syndicate. Sure, he had expected danger and life threatening situations on the regular, but he never expected to get to go through those things with a wonderful woman that he had ended up falling in love with.

Love was something Rocinante thought he’d never have—and technically he still didn’t—and that blossoming feeling in his chest, the quickening of his heart whenever he saw her…it was as wonderful as it was torturous.

Rocinante peeled off what was left of his shirt, frowning. “Man, I really liked this shirt, do you know how hard it is to find good shirts that I actually LIKE in my size?!” He chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere now that they were in the clear.

Aylin smirked as she returned with the med kit as well as a bowl of clean water and a cloth. "Pretty difficult, I'm guessing..." She set the kit and the bowl down onto the table and dipped the cloth into the bowl of water, eyeing him for a moment as if she had suddenly become hesitant. "This'll be cold, but it should help that burn," she finally said as she gently pressed the cool cloth onto his shoulder where the skin there looked angry and red. It would likely blister and peel. It was a stark contrast to his normal pale color.

She felt the muscles beneath her hands tense ever so slightly, but he didn't complain. A silence settled around them as Aylin busied herself with cleaning up his wounds, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. After several minutes, she paused.

Her voice dropped low. "Hey...put up that sound barrier, will you?"

“Hmm? Oh sure…” He raised a hand, snapping his fingers once. “Silent.” Immediately the sound of the water against the ship and the wind hitting the sails disappeared. There was only the two of them. “What’s on your mind, Lin? In the mood to tell some secrets?” Rocinante smiled at her over his shoulder but saw the serious look in her eyes and immediately schooled his face. “Is everything alright? My wounds aren’t that bad…even though it seems like I’m constantly getting beat up.”

She shook her head. "No, it's...not that." She let the cloth plop back into the bowl of water, staring at it for a moment before looking back at him. A conflicted look was in her eyes, and something else that he couldn't quite identify. She swallowed before continuing. "What you did back there...creating that distraction and saving those people... That was a very reckless thing to do. So many things could have gone wrong. Denise could have seen you. If _anyone_ but me had been there with you... Rocinante, I can't emphasize enough how _absolutely stupid_ and dangerous that was, and I just wanted to tell you how glad I am that you did it." A smile pulled at the corners of her lips as those last few words left her mouth.

Rocinante’s jaw dropped open, having not expected the praise at the end of her lecture.

“Hah, you really had me going there for a minute there!” He smiled at her for a moment longer. “There’s no way I was going to let something happen to those innocent people. Like I told that old man, it was the right thing to do. I might work in the underworld, but I’m not a MONSTER. People aren’t property.”

"No...no, they aren't," Aylin replied with utmost conviction. She glanced to the table to reach over and flip the lid of the med kit open, retrieving a tube of antiseptic ointment to apply to his burn wound. She poured a decent amount onto the palm of her hand and then carefully began applying it to his damaged skin.

After a moment, she said, "I know the Syndicate deals in human trafficking now and then. It's unavoidable in the black market. I've...always hated it. More than the other dirty jobs we end up taking on. They have lives. They have families." Her tone indicated that she would have liked to say far more on the matter, but she stopped herself right there. She paused to take a breath, counting back from ten in her head before continuing. "I've always tried to avoid becoming involved in those jobs. I guess I've been here for so long that I've started to convince myself there was nothing I could do about it. And today, you went and did what I couldn't. I...I'm grateful for that."

Rocinante waited until she was finished rubbing the ointment in and turned to face her, grabbing her hand in one of his. “Lin…you don’t have to feel guilty about that. Anybody would’ve done the same thing in your position. I had an opportunity here partially due to my devil fruit ability, so I took it. We can’t save everyone. We may want to, but we can’t.” He squeezed her hand another second before dropping it, gazing into her eyes with his warm brown ones, wanting to show her his understanding, that she had nothing to be sad or guilty about.

A moment later, he continued, “From now on, I’ll include you in my plans from the start. And if we come across these situations again, we’ll take care of them together. We’re a team after all, right?”

Aylin gave him a nod at that. "Of course." She turned away for several seconds to gather bandage materials from the kit, dropping the roll once from fumbling fingers.

She had never seen him quite like this...never known him to act on his own to such a degree. Until that night, he had always seemed content to follow her lead. She had been convinced that the chaos in the Society's gathering was caused by a rival out for revenge; the last person she would have suspected was her own partner, and it had her reconsidering how well she really thought she knew him.

And it wasn't just that. When she approached him with the bandage roll, stretching out a long piece to begin wrapping his shoulder, there was something slightly different about the interaction. As she passed the roll under his arm so that he could wrap it around his front, she found herself ready to apologize when their fingers brushed together. Aylin thought it was bizarre; why would she think to do such a thing? Why was she suddenly looking at him as though she'd never seen him before?

She found herself discreetly studying all of his old scars, some nearly faded and others freshly formed, wondering what sort of incident had caused each one. She surmised that many of them were due to his own clumsiness, although after the stunt he had pulled earlier that night, she was inclined to believe that some of them were also souvenirs from similar heroic acts.

Aylin began to wrap the bandage around his upper arm and happened to catch his eye, realizing with a start that he'd been watching her work, and she nearly dropped the roll once more.

  
She sighed. "Sorry. I think I've had enough action for tonight. Must be more tired than I thought," she hurriedly explained. "Okay, let's take a look at that gash on your side."

 

“Hey…I’m fine...it’s not that bad. I can get this one myself, since I can actually see it. I’m pretty shit at getting ones on my back, though, so thanks…”

Rocinante smiled at her, noticing the difference in her demeanor. She seemed nervous and out of sorts; distracted, not at all like the usual Aylin. He thought she probably had something quite heavy on her mind, and while he wished she would share her burdens more often, he wasn’t one to pry.   
  
Rocinante sighed softly as he tended to the gash on his side. “I really miss our coffee house right now! The stuff they have in the galley here is absolute swill.”  
  
She didn’t seem to have heard him and he noticed that she was staring at him with a sort of absent look on her face.

He chuckled. “You look so cute right now, Lin! But yeah, really tired. I think I ought to just take you to bed."  
  
Aylin nearly dropped the medical kit as she began to pack up the supplies, and it took her a moment to realize that he hadn't intended the phrase the way she'd inadvertently interpreted it.

She cursed herself for even thinking such things. Why was her mind going there all of a sudden?   
  
Meanwhile, Rocinante continued, "Want me to tuck you in?” He stood up out of his chair, stretching carefully before patting her shoulder gently. “I’m pretty tired myself. What do you say, want to cuddle for warmth?” He made a teasing face at her, though she didn’t seem too receptive to his light-hearted flirting at the moment, leading him to believe that she must be quite shaken up by the mission's events.  
  
Aylin swallowed, turning to shut the lid of the medical kit. "I'm going to put this away," she stated rather flatly before picking it up with both hands and walking off somewhat stiffly.  
  
Rocinante watched her go, quirking one eyebrow in slight confusion before shrugging.  "Well...okay."  


oOo

  
Aylin lay awake in the top bunk for what seemed like hours that night while Rocinante slept peacefully on the bottom bunk below. She couldn't seem to turn her brain off. Flashes of the mission kept reentering her mind; the people she'd met, the slaves offered as prizes, the ensuing chaos as the building caved with the pressure of all the fighting and then the explosion...Rocinante's act of bravery that had saved all those lives...  
  
He'd really surprised her that night. She wasn't sure what it was exactly that had impressed her so much. Surely it was something many others would have done. But in the black market such kindness was a rarity...as well as the strength to do those good deeds while knowing the risks.

She found herself wondering as she had many times before about how a man like him had ended up in the Blackburn Syndicate. He said once that he was after someone.  Aylin wondered who that could be. Someone within the Syndicate? Someone who had wronged him? She supposed she would find out sooner or later.   
  
Aylin rolled onto her side, a heavy sigh escaping her lips, and eventually she drifted off into a fitful sleep.


	14. A Special Day

After a few more miserable days at sea (at least for Denise, anyway), the group returned to the Syndicate only a little worse for wear. Rocinante always seemed to come back from missions covered in wounds, so no one thought much of it.  Denise stepped off the boat as coiffed and pristine as she’d boarded it, though that wasn’t a huge surprise considering the amount of luggage she’d brought along for such a short trip.

The sabotage of the Society meeting was disclosed to Syndicate superiors, but after a brief investigation it was written off as an unfortunate incident due to the likely infiltration of a rival’s spy. Luckily, nobody was the least bit suspicious that the one behind the chaos that had ensued was actually a Syndicate member.

Despite the abrupt breakup of the party, followed by the marines being called in, Denise assured the Syndicate’s Inner circle that she’d still been able to meet with her contacts within the Society and rub elbows with even more people of influence. They seemed placated at this fact and life went back to normal for a while.

Rocinante couldn’t help but continue to wonder about the people they’d freed. He sincerely hoped that they’d all been returned safely to their homes. It was times like those that made him feel he could make a real difference in his work with the marines. Those moments made all the hiding and the lies worthwhile. He knew his ultimate mission—to stop his psychotic brother and all the madness he was creating—was a huge and dangerous risk. There was no way of knowing what would happen once he confronted Doflamingo. Hell, there was no way of knowing if he’d ever make it out of the Blackburn Syndicate alive. His life undercover was not an easy one, but it was a life he had chosen for himself. And when he remembered the faces of those children who hugged him and thanked the ‘Magic Man’, Rocinante couldn’t help but smile and believe that he was doing the right thing.

Aylin, on the other hand, had been acting a bit off since they’d returned. She seemed distracted whenever they spoke, but Rocinante reasoned that it had been an extremely stressful mission and perhaps she just hadn’t bounced back from it just yet. He made sure to give her enough space, and he tried not to fill the silences that fell between them with too much babbling as he liked to think that he’d gotten quite good at reading her over the past few months and knew better than most that silence is golden.

 

oOo

  
  
A few weeks after the Society mission, Rocinante was sent off on a simple retrieval assignment with the ever-cantankerous Maynard. It was dull as nails, made even worse by the fact that Aylin wasn’t with him this time. He reasoned that it was likely because he was more expendable than her. Even with the name of a great team they’d made for themselves, Aylin was definitely of a higher rank, and rightly so, he thought.  
  
He made it back to headquarters the night before a very important day. Honestly he was relieved; he’d done so much planning for this day that he would have been devastated for this mission to cause him to miss it.

He giggled with glee as he folded a piece of paper in half, scrawling a heart and Aylin’s name on the outside. She probably thought that there was no way he’d remember, but oh, he did—and he wasn’t going to let this day pass by unacknowledged.

In fact, Rocinante was so excited that he could hardly sleep. He was out of the house at an ungodly hour in the morning to make sure he arrived at work before her, carefully placing the paper on her desk before slipping away to the warehouse after thoroughly bashing his head against the door frame. 

 

oOo

 

The note she'd found on her desk that morning requested that Aylin meet up with Rocinante at his apartment that evening. Likely for a trip to their usual coffee house, she surmised. She thought it was a bit late for coffee, but the stacks of folders piled high on her desk foretold a long night ahead, so she supposed a nice cup of caffeine could only be beneficial to her situation.

It had been several days since she had seen Rocinante, actually; he'd been away with Maynard on what Aylin had been told was a simple retrieval trip. It made her a little nervous, given what had occurred the last time he'd been part of a mission involving cargo pick-up, but he was a grown man and fully capable of taking care of things on his own...as she well remembered from their last mission together.

She quietly entered the apartment building that he'd made his home, ascending the cramped stairwell until she reached his floor. Even after he'd moved up a few ranks, he still insisted on residing within such a modest environment...and that was putting it lightly. The yellowed, peeling wallpaper failed to cover up long cracks in the drywall and there was a dank smell that seemed to persist no matter where one went in the building.

The place was a dump, quite frankly, though since Aylin herself barely spent any time at all in her own humble abode, she supposed she wasn't one to judge where he slept.

Reaching his door, she was slightly surprised to find it cracked open. She grimaced; did he never lock his door? Or had something happened? Aylin quietly pushed the worn door open, slipping inside without a sound. Her hand reflexively touched the pouch on her thigh, ready to draw a knife at a moment's notice. She peered around the room, seeing nothing out of the ordinary save for a few extra holes in the wall.

After a short pause, Aylin relaxed a bit when she heard running water coming from his bathroom. She sighed. "Roci?"

There wasn't a reply, although she supposed her voice was simply drowned out by the noise in the next room. She made her way through the room, stepping over several garments that had been strewn carelessly onto the floor. The bathroom door was halfway open and as Aylin drew closer, she could see him standing at the sink in front of the mirror.

A towel that was draped around his broad shoulders looked more like a dishcloth for a man of his stature. He was currently involved in splashing his face with some water, and Aylin couldn't help but notice the way it trickled off his chin and down his neck, creating rivulets along the musculature of his chest and abdomen. Her breath hitched as she suddenly became entranced by the way his back rippled while he reached up to towel off his shaggy hair. Her eyes followed every curve and angle, every jagged scar carved into his flesh, unaware of the way her mouth had fallen slightly agape until she had to swallow thickly.

Aylin blinked just then, a hot flush rising to her cheeks as she realized how wildly inappropriate this must be. She shouldn't be staring at him like this! Besides, it wasn't as though she hadn't seen him shirtless plenty of times before. It hadn't mattered then, so what was it that made this time any different?

She took a hesitant step backward. There was a loud 'crunch' beneath the heel of her boot, and her eyes snapped downward to see that she'd stepped on a bag of half-full potato chips. She cursed inwardly and glanced up just in time to see Rocinante's head hit the ceiling as he straightened up.

"Ow!" His surprise was replaced by a grin almost immediately when he turned and recognized her. "Lin, hey!"

Aylin felt her heart clench in her chest, still slightly flustered as she replied, "Hey..."

Mindful of the ceiling, Rocinante ambled over to her and then bent until he was at her level, quirking an eyebrow. "Are you okay?"

She cursed the fact that he knew her well enough now to notice even a slight change in her demeanor, and she nodded. "I'm fine. I just had something in my throat." She coughed as if to illustrate the statement.

Whether he bought her flimsy excuse or not, he didn't show it. Instead he just smiled again. "Alright. You ready to go get some coffee? Let me just go get a shirt real quick."

Aylin opened her mouth and then closed it, finally just giving a simple nod. "Yeah. Okay."

She watched him disappear into his cramped bedroom, slightly horrified when she found herself having to wrench her eyes away from his backside. She dragged a hand down her face, willing the improper thoughts away. What was wrong with her today? They were friends. Partners. No matter how persistent he was in his pursuit of her, that was all they could ever be. 

He bounded back into the room a moment later, buttoning up the top he'd chosen. "Lin, check out my new shirt! It's got hearts on it. Cute, right?" He laughed and jigged his eyebrows a bit as Aylin rolled her eyes.

"That's so gaudy!" She shook her head, taking stock of the fabric and inadvertently noticing how well she could still make out the outline of his chest. She hurriedly continued, "At least it's better than that yellow thing."

"Hey, I really liked the yellow one! Maynard did too," he added with a wink. "No, look, it's pink and red. The colors of love! Right? Right? Haha, I don't know, really..." He chuckled as they headed out, locking his apartment door upon Aylin's insistence.

They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes as they made their way toward their usual coffee place, passing a couple of stalls full of seasonal merchandise. Rocinante suddenly halted in his footsteps and disappeared into one of them, leaving Aylin standing outside in bewilderment. Was he in need of cigarettes again?

However, he emerged a minute later carrying not a carton of his usual smokes, but a tiny bouquet of flowers. He flashed her a grin as he held them out to her. "I forgot to get these on the way to work this morning, so here you go!"

Aylin felt a warmth spread through her chest as her eyes fell upon the small array of wildflowers, and she almost doesn't realize the little smile on her lips. Not this again... What had gotten into her? He did this very same thing practically every day, it was nothing new. She cleared her throat as she gently took the flowers from him.

"Oh...thank you." She nearly laughed in spite of herself; she felt ridiculous.

Rocinante beamed down at her. "You look happy today. I'm so glad! You're often so stressed out. It's the little things that are important, you know." He patted her shoulder and gazed down at her.

"Do I...?" Aylin felt more flustered than happy in that moment, but she wasn't going to admit that to him. She shrugged. "Ah...well, I guess there hasn't been as much drama lately..."

He nodded as they continued on their way toward the coffee shop. The discussion evolved into brief synopses of what the other had been up to over the past few days. Aylin had nothing of interest to report, other than having witnessed Priscilla hilariously lose her mind over a large spider that another associate had placed on her desk as a prank. She felt relieved to hear Rocinante recount a rather tedious, uneventful retrieval mission during which Maynard relentlessly complained and barked orders at mercenaries out of sheer frustration at having been chosen for such a dull task.

Before long, they had arrived at their destination.

"My treat today as well," Rocinante announced as they approached the door. "I just have to yell inside and they already know what we want. It's so convenient!"

Aylin scoffed lightly. "Well, aren't you Mr. Moneybags lately," she commented absently. In truth, her mind had already wandered, and she found herself wondering if Rocinante had been working out lately. He spent most of his free time either with her or asleep, so that didn’t leave much extra time, but still _something_ was different. She was so distracted that she tripped over a stick in her path just then, having not been watching where she was going.

"Whoa, hey!" Rocinante reached out to catch her arm before answering her question. "Nah, I just like to treat the woman I like right, you know..." He held onto her arm a moment longer than necessary, glancing down to give her a cheeky grin.

"Damn boots," Aylin cursed, pretending that the blush heating up her face was because of nearly falling down and certainly not because she had been thinking about how strong his hands felt around her arm. She coughed and cleared her throat before turning her back to him to push the door open.

The atmosphere was much the same as it usually was on a weeknight; a couple of people seated at tables here and there, some in groups of two while others sat alone with an open book or two on the table in front of them. Aylin made her way over to a table in the corner of the room by the window and Rocinante followed, though his foot caught a chair leg and knocked it over in the process. He wavered on his feet and would have fallen onto a vacant table had Aylin not doubled back to grab his arms and steady him as he spouted apologies.

A moment later they were seated, politely acknowledging Joann when she smiled at them from behind the counter and signaled that she would be right with them.

Aylin crossed her arms on the table before her, glancing up at her partner. "So...what's with the late coffee run? Got a long night ahead of you?"

Rocinante folded his hands in front of him, leaning forward. “You might say that…” His grin widened more and more until he burst into a small fit of giggles then, pushed his hair back from his face and looked away, coughing.  
  
“Hmm, I think I need a haircut, what do you think?” He pushed the hair back down, now so long that it covered his eyes. “I feel like a kid again! You know, I used to be really shy and always clinging tightly to my mom or dad, sometimes even my brother, and my hair was always like this. I felt like I could just hide under it."

Aylin smiled at that, trying to imagine him as a small, sweet-natured child with a mop of blonde hair. It wasn't particularly difficult. "You must've been a cute kid," she remarked, recalling how she used to wish her daughter was more like that. Instead, her child had always been a strong-willed, independent sort who could not be tamed. Aylin supposed the apple hadn't fallen far from the tree in that case.

She watched Rocinante as he smoothed back his hair, revealing more of his facial structures that were normally concealed. She had to admit, a haircut would probably add some maturity to his appearance, although she'd become fond of his shaggy look.

He chuckled lightly at her comment. “I guess I was! I just think all kids are cute, really. There’s just something about little humans. Makes you want to just pinch their cheeks and hug them.” He lowered his voice and hands at the same time. “I really hope you can see your daughter again someday…I know you must miss her.” He broke eye contact for a few moments. “And if you don’t mind me being selfish, I’d like to go along and meet her, too…”

He was about to continue when Joann approached their table dropping off a basket of croissants and their regular drinks.

Joann winked at Rocinante. “Ah, the lov—” she stopped short with a look from Rocinante who widened his eyes and shook his head, making a horizontal slashing motion with his hand.  
  
Joann coughed. “Anyway, good evening, you two! Are you staying long enough for a bite to eat?”  
  
Rocinante gave her a knowing look. “We just want to finish up these coffees, but don’t forget the to-go order I put in earlier. There’s a nice tip in it for you!”  
  
“Well, well, Rocinante, you sure know how to sweet-talk a girl. No problem, sugar.”

She walked off leaving the two of them alone again.  
  
Rocinante was grinning so widely that he felt like his face was about to break. He looked over at Aylin with stark anticipation. She didn’t have even the slightest CLUE of what he had planned, and he was fairly bouncing in his seat with excitement as he stuffed a croissant into his mouth.

Aylin’s eyes followed Joann's retreating form and then moved to settle on Rocinante's face, one eyebrow raised in question. "Roci, what's going on? You're acting strange...even for you."

She wondered briefly if he'd be leaving again for another mission. He'd been getting a lot more notice ever since the Society meeting and she suspected that Denise had much to do with that; he'd clearly made an impression on her during the last major assignment.

Rocinante nearly spit out his drink. “N-nothing! Nothing…YET!” He grinned at her and stuffed another croissant into his mouth. “Man, these are so good! Lin, you better eat one before they all disappear!”  
  
She gave him a LOOK that said they would most certainly be continuing this conversation, but he just grinned and acted goofy and excited.

About twenty minutes later, Joann showed up with a bag that had some containers inside, and Rocinante paid her with the promised tip.  
  
He pushed back from his seat and stood up to stretch, immediately banging his head on a low-hanging beam and then nearly setting himself aflame as his latest cigarette fell from his mouth.

He stomped it out quickly as soon as it hit the floor. “Sorry, Joann!!!”  
  
She waved her hand in dismissal. “No big deal, Rocinante. I’d be worried if you DIDN’T almost burn the place down for once. You kids enjoy the rest of the night.” She smiled and walked over to check on one of the other tables.  
  
Rocinante quickly gathered himself up and carefully handled the bag that Joann had brought. He lit another cigarette and gave Aylin a cheeky grin. “Let’s go…I’ve got somewhere else to take you.”

Aylin's eyes narrowed in suspicion for a moment, wondering if they would need to have yet another discussion regarding the limitations of their professional relationship. True to his word, Rocinante had not given up on his pursuit of her and it seemed that nothing she said could convince him that it was a pointless endeavor. Still, if he had intended to take her on a date, past experiences assured her that he would have made those intentions abundantly clear. Furthermore, he'd have asked for her consent beforehand.

Curiosity tugged at her and she stood, eyeing him in a scrutinizing manner. "Okay, seriously, what the hell are you up to?" 

Rocinante reached down and tugged on her wrist. “Come on, come on…OKAY I’M TOO EXCITED, LET’S GO!” He gently pulled her along with him as he jogged toward their destination.

The sun was dipping below the horizon, sending shades of red, pink, and orange cascading across the sky. They went past the docks to what they all referred to as the ‘good’ side of town where there was a strip of white, sandy beach.  
  
Rocinante stopped at the edge and grinned at her as he kicked his shoes off and then jumped into the sand. “Come on, Lin!”  
  
She hesitated a moment, then shrugged and pulled off her boots, joining him. The breeze felt nice. Balmy, not warm but not too cool either. When they had walked closer to the water, she saw that he’d set up a little campfire site surrounded by smooth stones. Something about the scenario was familiar. There was a large log for them to sit on and as she drew nearer, she felt a distinct tug of nostalgia.  
  
Rocinante stopped beside it and gestured for her to sit on the log as he began digging through the containers he’d brought from the coffeehouse. She sat, but still appeared confused, her eyes darting around the scene before her in somewhat disbelief.

"Roci...what is this...?"

“You didn’t REALLY think I’d let this day pass by without doing something special, did you?!” His grin got even wider if that was possible and he pulled out a small cake with one candle atop of it, then sat next to her. “Happy Birthday, Lin!”

Her jaw went slack. Birthday? That couldn't be right...her mind scrambled to recall the month and the day, thinking that he was surely mistaken. Today couldn't be...

Her eyes widened. "Oh. Today's...the eleventh..."

Frozen in her spot, her hands still raised in a counting gesture, Aylin's eyes traveled around the scenery once more. She'd only mentioned it once, and she barely remembered telling him at all. It was an off-handed remark she'd made while recounting a tradition that she and her daughter had created together many years ago. A trip to the beach and a campfire...there was even a bag of marshmallows sitting beside the log, right below two long sticks with freshly pointed ends.

He'd had no reason to commit the date to memory. Aylin herself probably would have forgotten about it altogether, only realizing it a few days afterward and chalking it up to one more year spent away from home.

But Rocinante hadn't forgotten. Her gaze moved away from the pile of small logs and sticks awaiting a flame and up his tall figure, fixating on his face, which was absolutely brimming with excitement.

Her mouth moved silently as she struggled for words, finally squeaking out, "You...you remembered this...?" A wave of emotion cut her off and she swallowed it back down, feeling a sudden warmth blossom in her chest. He really never ceased to amaze her.

Rocinante knelt next to her, his smile ever present. “Of course I did, Lin. You’re my best friend, I care about you so much…and…I know I’m a poor stand-in for your daughter, but I hope you have fun anyway.”  
  
She could only smile back, still dumbfounded, and he stared at her a moment longer; she looked utterly flustered, and he found it completely adorable. He really _did_ love her. A flush bloomed over his face, and he carefully placed the cake down somewhere it wouldn’t get messed up.

He locked eyes with her, then impulsively reached over and pulled her into a hug.

Aylin's posture stiffened, surprised by the gesture, and although she didn't immediately respond, she didn't pull away either.Rocinante had wanted to do this for so long. It was just a simple hug, but…it was a level of intimacy their friendship hadn’t really breached yet.

“I like to think that she remembers, too,” he whispered.

She allowed her eyes to slide shut, lulled by the scent of his clean shirt and the warmth of his arms around her, and she wondered if he was right. It had been so many years...to a child, it had to feel more like a lifetime. She sighed softly, somewhat unaware of her own movements as her head came to rest against the crook of his neck.

"Thank you," she replied in a low tone. Her hands twitched at her sides, finally reaching up to rest on his shoulders as she carefully pulled back, though not without some unforeseen reluctance on her part. She averted her eyes momentarily while she regained her composure. 

Rocinante grinned at her again. He couldn’t seem to stop, she seemed happy with his gesture and that made him happy too.

“You’re welcome. Let’s have some cake, then!” He pulled out his lighter in an attempt to light the solitary candle on top of the small cake, but he quickly lost control of it and nearly set himself on fire in the process. With a decidedly unmanly shriek, he tumbled over into the sand, legs sticking up in the air. “Ahhh, dammit...”

The lighter had gone flying up into the air as well, and as if by some sort of miracle or sheer dumb luck, happened to land on top of the neat pile of sticks that was to be their campfire.  There was a ‘WHOOSH’ as the site caught flame right away.

Aylin snorted in amusement as she watched the spectacle, seating herself on the log nearby. “I don’t think you could manage _that_ again if you tried a thousand times. Then again, you’ve surprised me before.”

Rocinante sat up, shaking the sand from his hair, still smiling bashfully at her. “Sorry…oh, thank goodness the cake was spared!” He cut it in half and gave her the bigger piece. “You can still make a wish, though. We’ll…just wish on the stars instead, how about that?”

"It's fine," she insisted with a slight smile as she took the offered plate from him.

He plopped down beside her, the log groaning a bit beneath his weight. A moment later, he sat straight up and then leaned closer to her, pointing with his free hand toward the horizon while the sky became increasingly darker.

“There it is! The first star!” He exclaimed excitedly. “Go ahead, let’s make our wishes!”

Aylin didn't believe in such things. No amount of wishing on birthday candles or stars could grant her what she truly desired. Frankly, she was quite sure that only children did this sort of thing. But Rocinante looked so eager that she found herself relenting, closing her eyes and allowing a silent request to pass through her mind. One single hope that she held close to her heart. It wouldn't change things either way, but she supposed it was nice to pretend for one moment that it could.

She opened her eyes and glanced up at him, a wry smile on her lips. "So what'd you wish for?"

Rocinante looked down at her with sincere eyes. “Well, you’re not supposed to tell your wish, Lin. But you should already know what my wish is…”

A long moment passed with their eyes locked together, his shining with the reflected light of the campfire. She studied his face, illuminated in oranges and reds, reminding her of their last mission together when he'd emerged from the explosion largely unscathed. Something had changed that night, that moment. Aylin had felt their dynamic shift. He'd gone rogue and risked everything to help those people and in the process, had somehow altered the way she looked at him. 

He made a slight movement as though he were going to reach for her hand, but then moved to grab the sharpened sticks he’d prepared for the marshmallow roasting instead. Aylin sighed almost imperceptibly, feeling both relief and disappointment competing within her jumbled thoughts.

Rocinante grabbed up the bag of jumbo-sized marshmallows. “Time to keep up that tradition! More stars will be coming out soon, too, so we can try to identify constellations.”

Aylin chuckled as she reached for the second stick. "I can just see this ending in disaster for you. Better be careful not to toast yourself instead."

She reached into the bag he'd just ripped open, plucking out a marshmallow and impaling its soft center onto the sharpened end of the stick. She watched him from the corner of her eye as he followed suit, accidentally jabbing his finger with the stick before managing to secure his marshmallow onto it, and then continued to eye him as he swung the stick directly into the fire. She sniggered when the fluffy white confection immediately went up in flames, causing him to swear and fling the charred, blazing ball of sugar into the ocean nearby.

Several more marshmallows shared the fate of the first before Aylin finally stopped laughing long enough to instruct him on the correct method for toasting them just right.

She wiped stray tears off her cheeks, still grinning as she worked on lightly toasting her second marshmallow. "You know, actually, my kid _likes_ them burnt to a crisp. She would've eaten those ones that you just threw in the water for the fish." Her eyes traveled up to the night sky, which was slowly beginning to display more and more of the twinkling stars above, and she sighed in equal parts contentment and nostalgia. "The campfire tradition was one of the last good memories I had back home. Just a few weeks before I left... My daughter set it up by herself. I was busy with work, but she was determined that we would do it. Couldn't believe she even remembered it, she was just a little thing. We always did this for her birthday, but I guess she thought we should do it for mine, too..."

“Really?” Rocinante smiled widely, happy as he always was whenever she felt the urge to talk about her old life with him. He knew it couldn’t be easy for her, and he was touched by the fact that she trusted him with those precious memories. “That’s sweet, Lin. I’m glad I can share this with you. Maybe I should’ve given those burnt ones a try…hmmm.” He eyed the ocean as if he were going to try and fish them out, but then turned back and grinned at her. “I’ll just burn THIS ONE!” 

Aylin's eyes went wide, her arm outstretched. "Roci, don't--"  
  
But it was too late; he shoved his latest marshmallow directly into the fire. In doing so, he must have thrust the roasting stick a little too far, because the majority of it caught fire as well.  
  
Rocinante's eyes widened as the flames crept closer to his hand, then he let out a yell, running closer to the ocean where he threw the stick in like a javelin. He immediately lost his footing in the sand and fell forward.

Aylin simply shook her head from her spot on the log, watching as he stood up and brushed himself off before slinking back to the campfire.

“Man I sure hope the fish like marshmallows…” He pouted a bit, holding his head on his chin. “Sorry, ehehehe…if you’re having fun, though, it’s okay.”

She glanced at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I am."  
  
Rocinante slid down off the log so that only his head was resting on it and stared up at the sky as it grew darker by the second. Many more stars became visible and it reminded him of one of the last peaceful times that he’d spent together with his family after his father’s declaration that the family should live as normal human beings away from Mariejois and the rest of the Celestial Dragons.

Aylin nudged him gently with her knee after a while. When he turned his attention toward her, she handed him a perfectly golden marshmallow on one of the plates they'd eaten the cake off of.

Rocinante took the marshmallow from her. “Awww, thank you, Lin!” Without ceremony, he shoved the entire thing in his mouth.

She set the toasting stick aside and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "So what about you? Ever have any silly traditions? If you're going to keep track of all mine, I should probably learn a few of yours," she added with a slight smirk.

Rocinante chewed the marshmallow thoughtfully. “Well…not really, I lost most of my family when I was very young. We didn’t have that much time for fun due to…the circumstances...and then my mother took ill and died. It was honestly more about survival at that point.”  
  
Rocinante’s eyes widened suddenly and he coughed, trying to sit up abruptly but knocking his head on the log instead. “Ack! I’m sorry Lin, I didn’t mean to bring up such depressing things during your birthday celebration.”

Aylin shook her head, having to stop herself from reaching out to pat his head to make sure he was alright. "You can talk about whatever you want. I don't care what day it is." She leaned a little further forward, wanting to somehow encourage him, but not to push him at the same time. "Really, Roci, you can tell me anything."

He was silent for another minute then cleared his throat. “Thanks Lin…but not today. I’d like to tell you more, but…maybe some other time.”

She nodded in understanding and after a few seconds, turned her attention toward the sky. "Well...it's dark enough now. Let's see how many constellations we can find."

 


	15. Climbing The Ladder

“That’ll be 300 beli, young man.” The old vendor smiled as she handed Rocinante the small bundle of flowers. “My, that’s a lucky young lady you’re courting! You’re always buying her flowers. I remember when my late husband, bless his soul, would do the same for me. I see a long and happy future ahead of you.”  
  
Rocinante blushed an insane shade of red as he handed over the money to the woman. “We-well…uh, thank you, ma’am!” He grinned down at her, not having the heart to tell her that he and the woman he was buying the flowers for every day weren’t actually together. “I hope you’re right!”  
  
He continued on to work with a skip in his step. What the little old lady said had encouraged him. He clutched the bouquet of flowers close to his chest, careful not to set it on fire before he had a chance to give them to Aylin. He went into the Syndicate at his usual entrance and was about to head deeper into the building where Aylin’s office was when someone stopped him.  
  
The man was quite a bit shorter and dressed in dark clothing, so naturally Rocinante nearly tripped over him. Startled, he began to apologize profusely until he noticed the other man's steely gaze and promptly fell silent after one subtle shake of the other's head.  
  
Rocinante gulped as his pulse quickened; the man was purposely blocking his path, standing with his feet shoulder-width apart and arms crossed. He looked vaguely familiar, although Rocinante couldn't quite recall where he had seen this person before. A big red flag went up inside his head as the other man continued to gaze up at him in a scrutinizing manner, eliciting a feeling of unease.  
  
What was happening?  
  
Just when Rocinante couldn’t take the staring and the silence anymore, the man said in a low voice, “Come with me,” and immediately turned away, his short silver ponytail bobbing gently with each step.  
  
The man never looked back to see whether or not Rocinante was still there as he led the way, taking them in the opposite direction toward a place deeper within the Syndicate that the blond had never gone to before. They went down several sets of stairs, through a couple of password-protected steel doors and the deeper they went, the more the underground structure began to resemble that of a very elaborate bomb shelter. He had to marvel at its architecture and he wondered how long this underground fortress had been there; the vaulted steel ceilings must have been a chore to construct. Had the Syndicate built this, or was it perhaps something they had simply commandeered when they had made Agora Island their new home base?  
  
The man in black led him down yet another corridor and Rocinante could have sworn his heartbeat was so loud it was echoing off the armored walls. A thousand scenarios raced through his mind. Was he in trouble? Had they somehow uncovered an incriminating piece of evidence against him? He’d covered his tracks and hid his true identity so well, there was no way they could know...or so he had thought.  
  
Finally the man came to a stop in the middle of the corridor and turned to the wall. It seemed like an odd thing to do until Rocinante realized that he was accessing a secret entrance. Upon the touch of a panel on the wall, a keypad appeared and the man entered the code quickly; there was a muffled 'click' afterward and an otherwise invisible door slid upward to reveal a secret room.  
  
"Inside," the man gruffly ordered, ushering Rocinante through the door before following behind him, closing the door as he went.  
  
Luckily the ceiling was still high enough that the tall man did not have to stoop in order to avoid smacking his head on everything above him. In fact, as he looked around the room, he noticed the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and elaborate mahogany furniture placed around the room. A large rectangular table was the centerpiece, and several other individuals were seated in chairs around it. Rocinante recognized a few of them as members of the Blackburn Syndicate's Inner Circle; Scarlet in particular caught his attention.  
  
She looked up as the two entered the room, catching Rocinante's eye and giving him a nod of acknowledgement.  
  
"Have a seat," she said, her eyes gesturing toward the chair opposite her.  
  
He did so, stumbling over his own feet in the process, but managed to right himself and sit down before he could break anything or set something in the room on fire.  
  
The man who had escorted him took a seat nearby as well, clearing his throat before speaking in a gravelly voice, "Before we proceed, I would advise you in no uncertain terms that you are not to breathe a single word of this to another soul, living or dead. As far as anyone outside this room is concerned, this meeting never took place." His sharp gray eyes met Rocinante's once more, conveying a grave warning even without words. "Do you understand? I don't believe I need to elaborate on the penalty for betraying the Inner Circle's trust."  
  
Rocinante opened his mouth to spout some kind of platitude to assure them of his utmost discretion, but thought the better of it and snapped it back shut. He nodded to the man, then made sure to look at each person seated at the table to show his acknowledgement.  
  
They were all so stern and quiet. What the hell were they going to tell him? Also, he was seriously longing for a cigarette about now, but thought he shouldn't appear too casual and relaxed in front of them all.  
  
He folded his hands in his lap. The nicotine craving would just have to wait.  
  
"Good," Scarlet chirped, her arms crossed on the table before her. "Then we'll proceed. Clark has brought you down here today so that we could discuss your standing within the Blackburn Syndicate. You've been with us for nearly a year now and your superiors have made several comments regarding your work ethic and skill level. Denise de LaCroix in particular was all but raving about your performance at the Society gathering last month..." She leaned forward a bit more, her dark eyes boring into his from across the table. "With that in mind, we've elected to place you at a rank better suited to your particular skills. In short, it's a promotion. You've been doing an Escort's job without holding the title for a while now, anyway, but this meeting makes it official."  
  
"But that isn't all," Clark spoke up before Rocinante could shake his stunned silence and respond properly. "We've been watching you since your arrival, as we do with all our associates. We gauge their personalities and their skills, we question their peers and examine them closely to determine what role they would best excel in. It seems that all of your peers agree that you have a strong sense of loyalty. As you might imagine, trust is an important aspect of this organization. We have many methods of ensuring cooperation, of course," he added with a rather sinister grin, "but true allegiance is often difficult to find.  
  
"You see, we value those with such traits very highly. People like you, who have demonstrated unwavering reliability in the short time you have been with us, are the reason that we have managed to persist for so long despite the government's efforts to put an end to the Syndicate. We have eyes everywhere; watching, listening, reporting any suspicious person. Many traitors have been exposed and dealt with thanks to these people. They are referred to as Scouts, and while their existence is well known, their identities are never publically disclosed."  
  
Rocinante was more than a little surprised at this announcement. A promotion though…that was just what he needed, and in far less time than he had thought it would take! Sengoku would be very glad to hear of it in his next report, which he was about due for, now that he thought  about it.  
  
Outwardly, he did his best to look honored. It was irony at its best that they’d count him so loyal. And loyal he was, but only because he truly believed that this job would be a major stepping stone toward his ultimate goal. Not only that, but he now had a loyalty toward the person he’d come to care for so deeply. Aylin’s presence made his actions genuine, and gave him another reason for his allegiance.  
  
Holding back the familiar salute that would have been appropriate in another forum, Rocinante stood and bowed towards the members of the Syndicate at the table. “Thank you very much. I’ll do my best in this new assignment.”  
  
Clark nodded. "Yes, you will," he replied, and it sounded more like a threat than confidence in Rocinante’s abilities.  
  
Scarlet spoke up once more from the head of the table. "Let me reiterate, just so we're one hundred percent clear; nobody outside of this room is to discover that you are a Scout. Not even other Scouts will be informed of your promotion. The job is quite simple. As Clark has already explained, you will be watching and listening. Once a week you will report directly to us, using utmost discretion. You are to remark upon any suspicious activity or person. The consequences for shirking these responsibilities will be severe.  
  
"Aside from that, you are free to make yourself known as an Escort. I will be sending instructions to our dear Miss Wild so that she may further assist you in preparing for your new role. I trust it won't be much different than what you've been taking on already." She gave Clark a nod, and he rose from the table before her eyes traveled back to Rocinante's. "You're dismissed. We'll meet again next week. Clark will send for you when the time comes."  
  
Clark motioned for Rocinante to follow him. "I'll show you out. Come along."  
  
Rocinante followed the man out of the labyrinth that was the underground headquarters of the Inner Circle. He’d never have found his way out without help. He felt a small sense of relief when they re-entered the regular portion of the Syndicate, and even welcomed the accidental head bump that came along with it.  
  
“Ow! Uh…thank you, Mr. Clark, I’ll see you around!”  Rocinante turned around to bow to the man again, but he’d already vanished.  
  
He fumbled for a cigarette, noting with dismay that the flowers he’d purchased for Aylin had become crushed in his hand during his trek and then the meeting.  
  
“Oh no…” He scratched the back of his head which immediately burst into flames. “ACK!” He toppled over, rolling all over the ground and inadvertently setting a stack of old newspapers alight as well.  
  
Several people in the vicinity began shouting in alarm, calling for help.  
  
Suddenly a bucket of water was unceremoniously dumped over Rocinante's head, fairly soaking his upper body and effectively putting out the flames, leaving a small cloud of smoke trailing up toward the ceiling.  
  
A sigh came from somewhere above him. "Rocinante, I swear...you're a wreck. It's a wonder you've even survived so long on your own," Aylin remarked in jest.  
  
“Lin…” He breathed in relief, spitting out a mouthful of water. “Here you go…” He reached up weakly, placing the crushed and now waterlogged bouquet into her hands. “Sorry…erm...”  
  
She exhaled a small chuckle as she accepted the gift. Most of the flowers had become misshapen and some of them were missing several petals, but their battered appearance somehow made the gesture all the more endearing.  
  
"It's okay, you didn't even have to..." She felt a faint blush creeping over her cheeks, and tried her best to banish the sudden flutter in her chest. "But thank you."  
  
"You're welcome!" The clumsy man sat up, rubbing his head as he reached for another cigarette, only to pull out a sopping wet pack and he groaned in frustration before giving her his full attention once more. “Well, guess who just got a promotion?"  
  
Aylin raised her eyebrows. "Really? So that's where you went off to."  
  
He nodded as he gave up sorting through his soggy cigarettes, tossing the pack aside. "Yeah. They decided to officially make me an Escort."  
  
"Did they? Well, I'm not surprised," she replied. "It's about time you climbed up another rung around here."  
  
Rocinante began to wring out his wet shirt, failing to notice the way Aylin tried extra hard not to watch him. "Hey, let’s go out to dinner to celebrate. But you have to wear a red dress with heels! For dancing you know.” Rocinante grinned cheekily at her as he stood back up to his full near-ten-foot height, smacking his head against the ceiling once more. “GEEZ!”  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Is there a dance that can be done lying on the floor?" A split second after the last word left her mouth, Aylin realized what sort of meaning could be derived from that question and quick as lightning, she turned her back to him before he could catch sight of how red her cheeks had suddenly become. She hurriedly continued, "Anyway, I really need to get back to work! I'll see you later," she added shortly before rushing off without sparing him a second glance, leaving Rocinante standing there with a puzzled expression on his face.  
  
“Huh?” Rocinante watched her walk off in a hurry, clearly bothered about something. He wanted to go after her, but thought it best not to loaf about after such a big promotion. He’d just find her later and see what was up, if anything.  


oOo

  
  
The next morning, Rocinante woke extra early…not that he’d slept much the night before. He had gone out with Aylin—who had sworn up and down that she didn’t own a red dress, and _no_ , she was _not_ going to wear high heels or dance—and they’d had a good time. He’d asked her what was bothering her earlier that day when she’d walked off in a hurry, and she’d passed it off as nothing; that she just hadn’t been feeling well and had suddenly remembered something important she needed to do. Rocinante wasn’t an expert on women by any means, so he simply chalked it up to something he just didn’t know about. Aylin was usually frank and open with him, but she certainly didn’t tell him _everything_.  
  
Rocinante had gotten so hyped up that he’d just gone home with a huge grin on his face, partially due to all the alcohol intake, and partially from seeing Aylin laugh so much. They always spent such fun times together. He never wanted them to end…though they would probably have to eventually.  
  
His smile waned a bit when he was brought back to the stark reality of his mission, and a superior officer that was no doubt impatiently awaiting his next update.  
  
Once he’d dragged himself out of bed and through his usual morning routine, Rocinante created his soundproof barrier and dialed the number he’d memorized long ago. He hoped that the man was already at work, even though the hour was quite a bit earlier than he’d usually call.  
  
After a couple of rings, someone picked up.  
  
"Yes?" Came Sengoku's gruff answer.  
  
“Bagels!!!” Was the overly enthusiastic reply from Rocinante. “It’s been awhile. I’m so glad you’re at work already! How are you? How is the family?”  
  
Sengoku sighed. "I'm practically living at work lately thanks to everything that's been going on," he grumbled, muttering something under his breath about a mountain of paperwork. "Anyway, how are things on your end?"  
  
“Awwww I’m sorry to hear that, I’m sure Sanga-san and Buki-kun really miss you! Don’t forget to take care of them. You know, family first, right?” He gulped, not missing the irony in his own statement. “But anyway, things couldn’t be better on my end. You’re talking to the man who just got a promotion! Not only one promotion, but a DOUBLE promotion! You won’t believe this!” His voice was brimming with mirth.  
  
Sengoku's interest was clearly piqued judging by the hum of approval from the other end. "Really? Do tell."  
  
“Well, I was officially promoted to the rank of Escort, but…” Rocinante explained about the Scout position and how much trust they were placing in him by granting him that much, and the fact that he’d done so well in this position so far that he’d been able to convince them of his utter loyalty. This was sure to earn him some points back at Marine HQ as well.  
  
“Pretty amazing, right?” He finished, having given full disclosure to Sengoku and breaking all the trust and the secrecy that the Scout post had commanded in one fell swoop.  
  
"I see!" Sengoku had to chuckle at the sheer irony of Rocinante's promotion. "Making the mole their spy...I have to commend you for that feat. Well done! This is truly good news, and it seems as though things are moving along much more quickly than I had anticipated. Although I would caution you to take extra care now that you've been placed in such a role...they may have made you their spy, but I imagine that only means they'll be watching you more closely."  
  
Rocinante made a sound of agreement into the receiver. “You’re right…”  
  
Before he could continue, there came the sound of a door opening in the background and a loud voice began laughing.  
  
“GYAHAHAHAHA! I should’ve known you were already here at work, Sengoku! Your wife must be worried as hell!” The loud voice was followed by some crunching noises. “Here I brought you tea and rice crackers, why don’t we have a nice, chat?”  
  
This was followed by a loud ‘thunk’ and some more crunching.  
  
"I'm busy!" Came Sengoku's reply, a bit muffled as he wasn't speaking directly into the receiver. "No, no thank you, I don't need any cra—Garp!! You're getting crumbs all over my desk!"  
  
“You’re too much of a neat freak, Sengoku! LIVE A LITTLE! GYAHAHAHAHA!”  
  
There were more slapping sounds and crunching sounds. Rocinante was listening in with a huge grin on his face, trying to suppress his laughter.  
  
"HEY, CUT THAT OUT!! Get your damn hand out of my face and get out of my office! I'm in the middle of a report, for crying out loud! Have some manners, will you?!"  
  
A moment later, there came the sound of a door slamming amidst boisterous laughter, and finally all was silent once more.  
  
Sengoku spoke into the receiver again. "Bah. I apologize. If it's not one thing, it's another!"  
  
Rocinante only laughed. “It’s okay! I like to hear that things are still lively over at HQ. Well, tell the family hello for me, will you? I don’t know when the next time I’ll be able to visit will be. And take care of yourself, okay?”  
  
Rocinante had to admit to himself he felt more than a little fondness for the man who’d helped him out after he’d lost everything when he was only a child. They’d maintained a good relationship over the years, and although Sengoku wasn’t an outwardly affectionate man, Rocinante knew the elder marine cared for him too. It was evident by the fact that he’d helped the youngster join the marines and had been there to encourage him every step of the way.  
  
"Of course, of course," Sengoku replied. "And you do the same. Good luck out there, Rocinante. We'll speak again soon!"  



	16. Tea and Tension

Aylin walked up the flight of stairs to Rocinante's apartment, one hand in her pocket while the other casually held the strap of a duffel bag over her shoulder. They had planned to meet up a few hours before heading out to sea toward their next assignment, hoping to come up with a working plan. Rocinante had wanted to leave work together that evening, but Aylin had some last-minute things to take care of and assured him that she would be there as soon as she had finished. He'd reluctantly agreed to go on ahead of her when she had reminded him to take extra time and make sure that he had everything he needed for the mission.

Reaching his door, she paused to knock a couple times, although the sounds within told her that he was inside and likely in a rush to get his things together. Aylin snorted to herself in slight amusement, hearing a loud 'thud' as something heavy hit the floor.

“Be there in a—OOF!...second!” There were sounds of scrabbling and scrambling, then a glass breaking. Rocinante finally opened the door, hunched over due to his immense height and rubbing his head with his free hand. “Come on in, Lin…. Er…sorry the place is such a mess!”

"No different than usual," she remarked with a smirk as she stepped inside.  
  
He gave her a sheepish grin before getting back down on his hands and knees, sifting through the pile of clothing that covered much of the floor.

“THERE IT IS!” He shouted in triumph moments later, snatching it from beneath a large pair of jeans. “My damn belt!” He snapped it together a few times before tossing it into his bag.   
  
Aylin noticed that on top of the bed—which was a tornado of pillows and sheets at the moment—was a long, flat bag for Rocinante’s suit. At least his formal wear hadn’t gotten crumpled amid the chaos of his search.   
  
Rocinante kept making blowing sounds every so often as he gathered up his things. Aylin waded over toward the kitchen, heading toward the stove to make some tea while he continued to scramble about.   
  
“I hit my damn head twice as much as usual today,” he remarked, pausing to blow at the bangs that settled over his eyes once again. “Bah. I’ve been meaning to get a haircut, but work’s been so crazy…and then afterwards I just see your face and I forget about anything else.” He grinned cheekily, a light pink blush dusting over his cheeks.

"You mean you can actually see at all under all that shag?" She set the kettle onto one of the burners and then searched the cabinet for clean mugs, trying her best not to let that compliment get the better of her. When there were none to be found, she reached into the sink to clean a few of them while the water reached a boil.

“Yeah, I mean I can see well enough to tell how cute you are…”

At once, Rocinante slipped into a little fantasy world where he could sidle up behind her, place his arms around her waist and kiss her neck or shoulder as he said this. In reality, his face began to burn even hotter. He coughed just then and promptly dove for the floor to retrieve one of his shoes under the bed.

Aylin was glad to be facing away from him at that moment so that she didn’t have to explain the fiery red tint her cheeks had taken on. And, yep, there was that annoying flutter in her chest again... She turned off the sink, setting the clean mugs onto what little space was available on the crowded counter and doing her best to appear completely casual.

Rocinante hit his head as he emerged from beneath the bed. “OUCH! Ugh…Lin, I’m a wreck. How am I supposed to go to this fancy function when I look like a hobo…?” He sat back against his bed, the entire thing shifting across the floor from his weight as he blew at his bangs again.

She had to chuckle at that comment, finally turning to face him across the small room, studying his appearance for a moment. He truly was beginning to resemble a human mop.

"Well, I suppose we'll have to clean you up a little, then,” she said with a half shrug. “Do you have a pair of scissors anywhere? I'm not exactly a barber, but I used to cut my kid's hair and she didn't get teased on the playground afterward so I'm inclined to believe I'm decent at it."

Rocinante smiled. “I do have a pair around here somewhere, but do you really trust me to find them?” He laughed aloud. “This whole place might come down if I so much as touch them, but…I think there's a pair in one of the drawers. Either the kitchen or the bathroom.” He played with his bangs a bit more while she busied herself with searching for the scissors. “This kinda makes me feel like a kid again…”  
  
Childhood moments he knew he’d rather not remember flashed before his eyes, taking all the emotion from his face. He became very quiet, save for his slightly quickened breaths, trying to will away the memories; the hatred in the villagers’ eyes, the loss of his mother, the murder of his father, the unbridled rage roiling within his brother...

Aylin's voice broke through his thoughts just then. "Found them! Not sure why you decided they should belong in the silverware drawer," she added with a slight frown of confusion. The tea kettle began to whistle just then and she plucked it from the hot burner, setting it onto an unused one to keep warm while she worked. "Anyway, this would probably work best if you stayed sitting on the floor," she said as she started toward him, grabbing a used towel that was draped over a broken chair.

“Okay, boss lady.” He grinned again, Aylin’s presence pushing all the bad thoughts away. How did she do that to him? How did she always make him feel like he belonged?   
  
He became very aware of her proximity as she wrapped the towel around his neck and he leaned over to push away some of the junk that was on the floor to give her better access.

“Sorry about the mess, I was kind of procrastinating.”

"I can see that," she murmured, only half listening as she evaluated the state of his hair. Kneeling on the floor so that the two of them were nearly facing each other, she reached up to briefly run her fingers through his blond mop, examining the length before letting the strands fall back into place. She swallowed, doing her best to keep things professional while she avoided looking directly into his eyes. "So...how short do you want it?"

“Hmmm, just a little off the top would be fine, and this…” He reached up to brush through his bangs. “Cut short enough for me to see. Don’t make me bald, now!” He joked as he tried not to concentrate too hard on how close they were.

Aylin's lips pulled slightly into a smirk as she reached for the comb nearby. "Are you sure we can't use you just once to dust the ceiling first?" She grinned as she set to work, combing through his unruly locks first before she began trimming off the ends with the scissors.

Time passed in mostly silence for the next several minutes, the only sounds in the room comprised of their breathing and the gentle snips from the scissors. Blond pieces began to litter Rocinante's shoulders, and gradually more of his face became visible again. Finally Aylin moved on to take a bit off his bangs, sitting back on her heels as she gently took a tuft between her fingers. She cut just enough so that he would be able to go about his business without constantly having to brush it out of his face, leaving it long enough to fall over his eyebrows. That was how she'd always known him to look, and she supposed she couldn't imagine him any other way.

Nearly finished, she set down the scissors to take some strands of hair from either side of his head, eyeballing their lengths to be sure she had given him an even cut. It was then that her eyes chanced upon his, and her heart did a flip as she realized with a start that his gaze had been on her at that exact moment.

Rocinante’s cheeks flared pink again as he locked eyes with Aylin for a long moment. He’d been watching her carefully the whole time, enjoying the feeling of closeness with her. Her nice gesture had felt incredibly intimate to him, and although he wanted more, he respected her too much to try anything. Every advance he’d ever made was always dismissed or thwarted, but always for practical reasons. She’d never actually said ‘I don’t feel that way about you’. It was always ‘We can’t because…’ and then she would insert some reason; her priorities within the Syndicate, the supposedly inappropriate age gap between them, her daughter being her number one concern, their friendship potentially being jeopardized... Aylin always managed to come up with some reason and then immediately changed the subject. She was clever in her avoidance of that particular conversation.

Still...for all the reasons she came up with, none of them ever seemed to have anything to do with the two of them being incompatible. He knew he shouldn't dare to hope, but he couldn't help it.   
  
He reached up and wrapped one of his massive hands gently around her wrist, intending to pull her hand in for a kiss. “Lin,” he whispered huskily, his eyes never leaving hers.

Something about his voice and the way he spoke her name sent a ripple through every nerve in her body and she barely held back a sudden shiver. Her cheeks heated up upon the feeling of his warm hand enveloping her wrist, drawing her closer...

Aylin visibly swallowed, feeling herself unable to look away from his gentle gaze; warm, brown eyes full of affection and always some degree of intensity, reflecting his passionate nature. If she were being honest, she found them quite lovely.

But this couldn't continue. The small voice in the back of her head nagged at her, telling her that it wasn't right and it could never work...nor should it. There were too many complications. She drew in a careful breath, catching a whiff of his scent as she did so, which did nothing to help her resolve.

"Roci..." Aylin cleared her throat and managed to avert her eyes. It was as if she'd been in some sort of trance. She took a moment to gather her wits, forcing herself to think about the night ahead of them instead of the things her body was tempted to do at that moment. She sat back, chancing a glance at him once she felt she was a safe distance away. "Hmm...maybe you should have a look in the mirror and make sure I did alright..."

Rocinante let his hand slip gently from its hold around her wrist. She’d hesitated. Was that a good sign? The barriers between them had seemed to be weakening, but she’d put them back up just as quickly.   
  
He forced the disappointed look off his face as he stood up, cracking his back and then immediately hit his head on the ceiling. “DAMN! I guess we’ll get to use my head as a mop after all…I’ll be right back.” He ducked into the bathroom examining his now neat hair, his eyes once again visible and he fluffed it a few times.

Still sitting in the same spot, Aylin let out a long breath, her shoulders slumping as she finally allowed herself to relax. She stared after him for a moment, watching as he admired his haircut in the mirror before she tasked herself with putting away the scissors and dumping the scattered bits of hair into the trash.  
  
“You did a bang-up job, Lin!” Rocinante announced as he sauntered to the kitchen where Aylin had begun to set up the tea service.

"Glad to hear it," she said, managing a smile as she slid a cup across the table toward him. The tea water had sat just long enough so that it wasn't going to burn his mouth when he inevitably paid no heed to its temperature.

Rocinante started adding several sugar cubes into his cup until the container was half empty, earning a quirked eyebrow from his partner.

He offered a sheepish grin. “So when are we meeting Denise, again? I still have a few more things to cram into my bag…”

Aylin glanced down a moment as she pulled out her pocket watch. "About half an hour," she replied. "How much more do you need? We'll only be away for a few days. Hopefully," she added, recalling a streak of bad luck not long ago in which none of their missions went quite as planned. "Looks like you've got your suit already. And you'll need a change of clothes, definitely your weapons, and...did you need to pick up anymore cigarettes?"

“I have my weapons, and I’ve stocked up on cigarettes. I’m just missing my other shoe…” He pointed down to his feet, one of which was missing the aforementioned shoe.   
  
Aylin snorted in amusement. “Come on, I’ll help you search…” She left the table and began to circle the room, glancing around for any sign of the shoe. It couldn't be terribly difficult to spot, considering the size of it. Her thoughts began to wander as she dropped to her knees to peer beneath his bed, thinking about how massive his feet were and wondering before she could stop herself whether or not the old adage was true about men with big feet. Her face flushed and she became so distracted that she bumped her head on his dresser. “Ow, dammit...”  
  
Rocinante was almost instantly at her side, having thrown himself across the room. “LIN! ARE YOU OKAY?”

Thoroughly embarrassed, Aylin nodded, rubbing at the spot on her head that would surely become a nice lump by morning. "I'm fine, it's nothing. Ah...on the bright side, I found your shoe," she added as she spied it between the dresser and the bed at that moment and knelt to retrieve it. "What do you do when you come home anyway, violently kick your shoes off in whichever random direction?"

“If I said yes, would you slap me?" He chuckled. "What can I say, I’m a bachelor!”

“Like that’s any excuse.” Aylin sighed and shook her head, although he could clearly see amusement in her expression.   
  
They returned to the kitchen table where Rocinante added even more sugar to his tea, then stirred it with tiny spoon that looked hilariously small in his hand.

“So you wanted to brief me, right? Let’s hear it. I’m actually really excited—it’s my first mission as an official Escort!”

"Excited isn’t really a word I’d use," she remarked with a wry smile. His enthusiasm for this job was often an enigma. Nevertheless, it was time to talk strategy. Aylin leaned against the counter as she reached for her warm cup of tea and then proceeded to give him a much more detailed description of their assignment.

The circumstances this time were rather unique. Recently, there had been rumors floating around the Syndicate ranks; whispers of a traitor in their midst. Aylin had heard talk of it as the paranoia began to spread like wildfire. Several missions had been seemingly sabotaged over the last few months and cargo had been stolen. Meanwhile another organization—an older, yet smaller group who referred to itself collectively as the Hive—had reaped the rewards for completing those jobs instead.

Aylin was reminded of the first assignment that she and Rocinante had worked together. The mercenaries who had sailed away with the Alfredo Family's cargo... The event seemed suspiciously connected to the happenings as of late. Back then, she had been willing to believe that the mercenaries were simply untrustworthy, however recent evidence was starting to make her think otherwise.

Furthermore, word from the Inner Circle was that one of the Syndicate's most trusted Scouts had tipped them off regarding a mole among their ranks. That particular Scout had provided a second tip, informing them of the place where the mole would likely meet with a select few Hive representatives.

That was where Aylin and Rocinante came in. They were tasked with attempting to discover the identity of the supposed mole, to uncover more information regarding the deal with the Hive, and then to proceed with sabotaging it from there. Denise de LaCroix was to accompany them and advise them during the mission, depending on what sort of information they could glean.

With so much up in the air, there was a lot that could go wrong. Aylin only hoped that they would be able to rely on the Syndicate Scout's intel. They surely had an advantage over Hive in sheer number, but the other organization was older and its members more experienced. They would probably be expecting the Syndicate to make a move.

She and Rocinante would have to take extra care to keep their heads down and their guards up.

 


	17. Mr. and Mrs. Sokolov

Rocinante was still fumbling with his tie when the group of three arrived at the gala. He and Aylin were undercover— _much_ to his delight—as a husband and wife who were friends of Denise and looking to invest in a cutting-edge, up-and-coming weapons manufacturer by the name of _Pritchard Technologies._  
  
She was going to introduce them to the ambitious businessman who owned the company; a cutthroat young man by the name of Leblanc Pritchard. He had accomplished a remarkable feat during his short years as a CEO, already dominating the legitimate weapons market after having completely sunk his competition—including Slade Enterprises, the corporation which had once held that spot for nearly half a century.   
  
Rocinante wondered if Aylin was feeling a little uncomfortable with the arrangement, but if that were the case, she hadn’t allowed it to show. Still, he worried; he certainly didn’t want to cheapen the idea of marriage, in either his eyes or hers. She’d been married once before, after all, whereas Rocinante had little to no experience in such matters. His life had never allowed for anything remotely ‘normal’ like going on dates or having a girlfriend.   
  
He knew perfectly well how to tie a marine knot, but he’d never actually had a reason to tie a necktie before. His failure to do so was beyond embarrassing. He pulled it off and stuck it into his pocket as the three of them were escorted into the courtyard of the lavish mansion, which was better described as a castle—Rocinante counted at _least_ five stories, including a small turret made entirely of glass that looked like it had been created exclusively for stargazing or perhaps elaborate people-watching. He idly wished that he could take Aylin up there, but of course this trip was strictly for business purposes.   
  
The castle was quite impressive nonetheless. It was the tallest building on the island by far, accented by dozens of statues which were all made of the same type of solid glass material, tinted the faintest shade of blue. Rocinante tucked his limbs closer to his body, scared that he might set off a chain reaction of destruction if he weren’t careful. It seemed that everywhere he looked there were more breakables.  
  
It was a small hike to reach the massive double doors that marked the entrance of the Pritchard estate. The doors themselves were not made of glass, but the ornate doorknobs were.   
  
“Darling…” Denise glanced up at him as he fumbled for a smoke, trying to calm himself down.

He really wanted to look good on his first official mission as an Escort.  
  
“Relax. You look exactly the part, what with that charming face…but we must fix that tie!” She held out her hand, and Rocinante sheepishly pulled the now-crumpled maroon material out of his pocket. Denise looked mildly amused. “You should’ve said something. There’s no shame in a man needing help with his tie.” She then tied it with expert swiftness, as though she’d done it a thousand times before.   
  
“Th-thank you,” he stuttered, slightly abashed.

Denise herself had gone all out for this gala, intending to get close to Leblanc Pritchard and attempt to glean any useful information from the rich and powerful man. She was wearing a long, slinky red dress with a plunging neckline, diamond earrings and necklace to match, red high heels and long black gloves. A white fur stole was draped around her shoulders and her trademark swagger did much to catch the eye of every man in the vicinity.   
  
Rocinante thought she looked nice, though his thoughts had begun to delve into impure territory once he’d gotten a good look at what Aylin was wearing. He always thought that she was beautiful, but her wardrobe today was so absolutely stunning that he had to force himself to keep his eyes off her for more than a few seconds. He pulled on his collar, his face heating up once again as he looked ahead and caught a glimpse of her.

She was currently speaking with the man standing at the door of the Pritchard estate, who was looking through a list of names on a clipboard. Aylin put on her best ‘bored socialite’ impression, casting a look of apathy toward her two companions at the bottom of the marbled glass steps.

While Denise's brightly-colored ensemble appeared to scream for attention, Aylin's dress was a bit more modest, though nonetheless fitting for such a glamorous event. She'd gone with something of the "little black dress" variety; a strapless, espresso-colored number that fell to her mid-thigh and complimented her in all the right ways while still allowing for freedom of movement if need be. She had also swapped her trademark knee-high boots for a pair of classic heels.

Denise, with all her connections, had managed to get the three of them onto the guest list without arising any suspicion at all. In fact, she was friends with several of the other guests in attendance. Aylin couldn't imagine how Denise managed to keep up with so many people, although she surmised the woman's charming personality had much to do with it.

Receiving the nod from the man with the guest list, Aylin turned back to check on her companions just in time to see Denise straightening Rocinante's tie and then giving it a satisfied pat.

"There, darling. Much better." The Curator stepped away from him and swaggered toward the door, looking pleased when the man with the clipboard nodded and allowed her to pass by.

Aylin hung back long enough for Rocinante to catch up, taking note of the unlit cigarette still between his fingers.

"You sure lighting that thing is a good idea in a place like this?" She teased. "And look at all those glass statues. I'm sure a few of them have your name on them."

Rocinante laughed at this, the sound coming out more like a high-pitched giggle as he dropped his cigarette, fumbled for it and then decided to just leave it there lest he actually start a chain reaction of breaking statues. He snuck glances at Aylin, feeling like a shy school boy, though he figured he needed to straighten his act out if they were to pass themselves off as a married couple.  
  
He cleared his throat. “Mrs. Sokolov?”

The tall blond offered her his arm, though upon remembering that she couldn’t really reach it he corrected himself and offered her his hand, feeling a surge of warmth as she readily took it in her own. It was all he could do to resist giving it a squeeze; they were playing a part here, after all. No reason to get carried away.

“Uh…um…ah…eh…” He lowered his voice as they followed Denise into the ornate foyer that was practically made of glass itself. “Lin…you…uh…I wanted to say this earlier, but um…” Rocinante’s face flushed pink as he pushed the words out. “You look beautiful.”

Aylin didn't dare chance a look at him while she felt her own cheeks growing warm, not wanting to belie how affected she was by his compliment. She felt his hand become somewhat sweaty around hers, betraying his nervousness, and although she found it rather endearing she told herself that she shouldn't encourage such things.

"Oh, well...I—”

“Darlings!” Denise interrupted their private chat as she rushed over to hurry them toward a group of people she’d decided to introduce them too.

Denise’s acquaintances looked as though they were cut from the same cloth as the people they’d met at the Society meeting. Rocinante and Aylin bullshitted their way through so many introductions with people they couldn’t care less about and then went on to endure mind-numbingly dull conversations with some of them. Luckily Denise remembered all their names and why they were important enough to have been invited to the function.  
  
The further the three of them trekked into the house, the taller the ceilings became, and the more glass there was to break. Rocinante felt both relieved and terrified at the same time. His hand finally become so sweaty that Aylin’s slipped from his grasp, and he cursed mentally.

“Sorry,” he mumbled down to her. “I’m a little nervous…”  
  
Denise didn’t seem to notice as she was scanning the room for a particular person. “Ah there he is, our gracious host! Come, come, darlings, time to meet him! Leblanc darling!” She called cheerfully, waving a gloved hand as she swaggered over to a tall, dark-haired individual.

The man in question stood amidst a swarm of admirers, dressed in a solid black suit that was accented by only a steel gray tie. Many of those who gathered about him seemed to have plenty to say to him, although Leblanc himself seemed to respond only with short sentences or gestures. When Denise called out to him, he lazily glanced up and nodded coolly before taking a sip from the elaborate wine glass in his hand, beckoning her forward with his pale eyes.

When she approached him, Leblanc took a few steps toward her and the group around him parted for him as if he were royalty.   
  
“Darling, it’s been too long.” Denise smiled at the man charmingly, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “Though I did enjoy our last meeting…” She trailed off with a wink. “I’d like you to meet some friends of mine.” She gestured to Rocinante and Aylin who had only been a few steps behind her.   
  
“This is Pietro and Natasha Sokolov. Pietro, Natasha, I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Leblanc Pritchard.”  
  
Rocinante thrust his hand forward. “A pleasure, Mr. Pritchard!” Rocinante’s hand was still slick with sweat and he hoped that the other man wouldn’t notice.

Leblanc's cold stare lingered momentarily on the tall man's outstretched hand before he reached forward to give it a shake. "Pleasure's mine," he responded in a voice somewhat devoid of emotion, a slight frown wrinkling his brow as he drew back. Without breaking eye contact with his guests, he held his hand to the side and one of his servants immediately rushed forward to pat it dry.

Aylin felt her senses bristle at the host's demeanor, though she did her best to betray no such reaction. She nodded back and extended her own hand.

"Spectacular gala. I'm honored to be in attendance," she replied in a tone the reflected nothing but utmost professionalism, though she nearly wavered when Leblanc reached for her hand and slowly brought it to his lips.

"I suppose it'll have to do," he murmured, his eyes boring into hers. After what seemed like an eternity, he drew back. "I hope that you will enjoy yourselves."

Rocinante was relieved when it appeared that they were dismissed. Leblanc stopped paying attention to them and they drifted away to another part of the room while Denise stayed behind to schmooze. She apparently knew the man rather well.   
  
“What an asshole…right?” Rocinante whispered to Aylin.

"You can't expect much else from these kinds of people," she muttered in reply. "Flaunting their wealth and using it to gain status and power. Nothing ever seems enough." She sighed, forcing back a bitter laugh. Now was not the time to get angry. They still had much to do. "Anyway, let's walk around a little..."

The Scout source had been able to give the Inner Circle an exact location for the meeting between the Hive representatives and the mole; specifically, the rooftop after dark. Aylin wasn't sure what it was with seedy folk and rooftops, but she'd negotiated quite a few deals on her share of them. Until that time came, the two of them would attempt to glean as much as possible from the guests in attendance, and judging by the way Denise was practically glued to Leblanc's arm, it looked as though they'd be on their own for the night.

That was fine. Denise's job was not to help them uncover the identity of the mole, but to figure out how to best utilize the information once Rocinante and Aylin had obtained it.

The "married couple" made a couple of passes around the room, stopping to converse with others here and there. Most of them seemed to be business associates of Leblanc's and their plus ones, although several unrelated wealthy figures were in attendance as well. Rocinante had managed to spin a story about having inherited a relative's fortune, which was certainly within the realm of possibility at a gathering such as this, so the tale was well received.

 After having to endure a particularly tedious discussion with an actual married couple (who wouldn't stop gushing about their three children and their five vacation homes and that one time at Saboady Archipelago when a Tenryuubito decided _not_ to spit on them for their insolence), Aylin excused herself for a trip to the open bar while muttering something about how her blood alcohol concentration wasn't nearly high enough to continue suffering through such interactions.

Rocinante followed close behind her, managing not to trip and make a fool of himself. He thought the only thing really missing from this scenario was him wearing a fake mustache, and he nearly choked on his own spit when the thought made him gasp with laughter. He quickly covered it up with a silk handkerchief as Aylin ordered several hard drinks for herself.  
  
Rocinante ordered something with a name he liked that turned out to be a tall pink concoction topped with whipped cream and cherries.

“Lin, you should’ve gotten one of these!” He said as he sipped it casually, earning a nudge from his ‘wife.’   
  
“ _Pietro_ , didn’t I ask you not to use my pet name in public?” She raised an eyebrow at him over her martini glass, taking a sip and then stirring it with the olive-laden toothpick.  
  
“So sorry, my love!” Rocinante turned on the charm, leaning closer to her as he placed a large hand gently on her waist. “The sight of you in that dress is so ravishing that I just can’t seem to help myself.” A pink flush lit up his cheeks as his eyes bored down into hers.

Aylin turned her head away, glancing up at him from the corner of her eye while she stuck the toothpick into her mouth. "Behave yourself, dear," she replied as she scraped the olive off with her teeth. She couldn't ignore the small—and likely inappropriate—sense of satisfaction that welled up within her at the fact that he couldn't seem to look at her without turning colors.

The same could be said of her, though, and she realized it when she allowed herself another good look at him. She had to admit, he cleaned up quite well. The suit he wore had been tailored to fit his large form and it did so perfectly; she'd noticed how his jacket accentuated his broad chest and shoulders, and a couple of times caught herself admiring the way his black slacks complimented his long legs.

It was almost unfortunate how handsome he looked. It only made that resolve of hers all the more difficult to maintain.

She held the glass to her lips once more, tipping the entire thing down her throat and trying to pretend the flush in her cheeks was due to the alcohol.

“Let me get you another drink, my love.” Rocinante took the empty glass from her carefully, noticing how intricate it was—much like every other glass item they’d seen within the mansion—and headed back over to the bar.

It didn’t take him long, only a few strides at his height, but halfway there he felt something bump his leg. He nearly lost his balance, wobbling comically and flailing his arms while desperately trying to remain upright.   
  
A nasally voice stuttered from down near his knees and he felt a small tug on his pants. “OH MY, OH MY! I’m so sorry, s-so very sorry, sir!”   
  
Rocinante looked down to see a short bespectacled man who looked quite like the human equivalent of an owl. The man adjusted the round lenses of his glasses, which had become askew on his face, as he dusted Rocinante’s pants near frantically. A leather-bound portfolio was tucked under the man’s arms.   
  
“M-my apologies!” The man uttered additional apologies and began bowing to him repeatedly.  
  
“Oh! No, no, it’s fine. It’s no big deal, I’m just clumsy. I’m sorry I didn’t see you down there…” Rocinante rubbed the back of his head somewhat abashedly.  
  
The man waved his hand in front of his face in frantic dismissal, as if it were unthinkable for a guest to have done anything wrong. “Oh no, sir, the fault is entirely mine. It’s inexcusable.” He bowed an additional two times. “I should have been more careful. I was in too much of a hurry. Leblanc-san does often tell me to slow down…” He clutched the portfolio just a bit tighter, a detail that Rocinante did not miss.  
  
“Oh! Do you know him well? I’m uh…R—Pietro Sokolov! A pleasure, Mister…?” He reached down to shake the smaller man’s hand, having to bend over to do so.  
  
“Oh, ah, um…I’m Pierrepont. I work with Leblanc-san.” The man took Rocinante’s hand awkwardly, not able to wrap his exponentially smaller one around Rocinante’s massive one and shook it rather weakly.

Meanwhile, Aylin, who had witnessed the incident from the table, had stood up and made her way over to investigate. "Pietro, is everything alright?" She quirked an eyebrow at the man who was about a third of Rocinante's height; they looked awfully silly shaking hands.

“Natasha my love! Everything’s fine. I was just talking to a colleague of our gracious host! This is Pierrepont. Pierrepont, my wife Natasha.” Rocinante glowed as he said the words ‘my wife’ and placed his hand on her bare shoulder.   
  
“A pleasure.” The man bowed several more times, still clutching tightly at the portfolio. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I was on my way to see Leblanc-san about a rather urgent matter that’s come up.” He bowed three more times, then reached up and adjusted his glasses. “I hope the two of you enjoy the rest of your evening!” With a final bow the man turned slightly and rushed off, his feet moving in tiny steps that were swift at the same time.   
  
A single piece of paper fluttered in the wake of his departure, crisp and white with black handwriting scrawled over it. Rocinante bent to retrieve it, looking quizzically after his partner.   
  
“Um…normally I’d go return this to him but…” He locked eyes with her, a silent signal that they needed to find a place without prying eyes to read the paper.

Aylin immediately understood. A second later, she was purposely bumping into him and causing his glass of half-full alcoholic beverage to splash all over his jacket.

"Oh, no!" She gasped loudly and took a step forward, grasping the black material and acting as though she were examining it in horror. "Not your Bellincioni original suit! It's your best one!" She discreetly took the piece of paper from his hand and slipped it into his jacket.

"Dear me!" Remarked a woman nearby who had seen the spill take place. She shook her head sympathetically. "Those stains can be troublesome! I would go and wash that immediately if I were you! The washroom is right down that hall, second door on the left. Although if you prefer, one of Leblanc-san's servants should be able to take care of it for you."

Aylin gave her a nod. "Yes, thank you. I think we'll just head for the washroom." She grasped Rocinante's hand and began to lead him into the hall. "Come on, honey, let's go get this cleaned up!"

“Yes, my darling!” Foolish grin on his face, he let her lead him away from all prying eyes.

Aylin purposely passed the washroom that the woman had described and instead, a bit further down the hall, found a small alcove with settees in a semi-circle.  
  
Rocinante perched on one of them, peeling off his alcohol soaked jacket as Aylin smoothed out the rogue paper on the coffee table that was between the settees.   
  
“Ah man, it went through my shirt too.” He pointed at the large pink stain. "Denise is going to be pissed…” He unbuttoned his shirt and removed that as well, laying it across the back of his seat to dry.

“Hey, can you—” Aylin looked up from the paper, catching sight of him and nearly forgetting what she was going to ask. "Er...the, uh...your little trick...?"

“Hm? OH! Right… _Silent_.” He snapped his fingers and the barrier surrounded them, invisible to the eyes of anyone who might happen to pass by. The sounds of the party down the hall disappeared and there was only the two of them.

"Okay," she said as her eyes fixed onto the paper again, scanning it briefly. "It...looks like a letter. Or part of one, anyway..." She continued to read, curiosity welling up within her. They had plenty of time until the rendezvous on the roof; might as well see what they can dig up on Leblanc in the meantime.  
  
Rocinante stood up, stretching a bit before walking over to where Aylin sat so he could see what was on the paper. He immediately slipped and fell, falling across her lap, his legs hanging down.

“Ow…gosh, I’m sorry! Man I’m really glad I didn’t break this table…it’s so nice…” He reached out a hand and traced one of the designs etched in the glass.

"Something...tells me he wouldn't go bankrupt replacing it," Aylin managed to reply, somewhat frozen in her seat while he clumsily attempted to get his feet under him again and accidentally knocked another chair over in the process. Her hands grasped his arm in an attempt to help him up. "Come on, up we go...are you okay? What did you trip over?" She busied herself with looking at the floor for whatever it might have been, anything to keep from raking her eyes over his well-defined abdominal muscles. 

Rocinante sat down gingerly beside her, throwing an arm over the back of the seat. “Um…I think I tripped over my own feet.” He coughed and looked away “SO! What kind of secrets did we get? I can’t to find out!”

Aylin held the paper where both of them could easily read it and skimmed the page quickly, noticing that it was in two different sets of handwriting. “Looks like it's personal...”

Her eyes reached the bottom of the page to a sentence that started with ‘Your father and I...' She quickly turned the page over for more, but it was blank, only a fragment of the full document.   
  
“Wow.” Rocinante’s eyes were wide after what he read. “This is really sad, Lin. He bankrupted his own parents…”

Aylin hummed in agreement, taking one last glance at the written plea from Leblanc's parents to stop his efforts in snuffing out their company. "I had the feeling he was a cold bastard, but this goes far beyond simple cruelty. This is...had to be premeditated...something he's worked long and hard to accomplish. You can't do this sort of thing overnight." She shook her head. "I'd bet you anything in the world that he's involved with the Hive. Why else would one of their representatives choose his estate to meet up with our mole?"

Rocinante agreed. “You saw how he acted, he obviously has some kind of superiority complex…some people are just born believing they’re better than everyone else…” He clenched his fist tightly, remember the words of his brother long ago. Sadly, destroying your own family from the inside out was not uncommon in this world.   
  
He shifted in his seat, willing the thoughts of his brother to subside. He didn’t want to go back into that party full of snooty rich people; nobles trying to be like one of the Tenryuubito, lavishing themselves with superfluous clothing, homes, and possessions while there were millions of people throughout the rest of the world who had to eat out of the garbage.  
  
Rocinante’s brow wrinkled and he sighed heavily, leaning back in his seat, his weight shifting the furniture backwards. Aylin picked up in the change in his demeanor and decided it would be best not to pursue the topic further. She sighed, her eyes traveling toward the open doorway, not looking forward to returning to the festivities either.

"I hate to say it, but we should probably go back...people are either going to think that we're up to something, or that we're, uh..." Her cheeks burned bright red as the sudden thought entered her mind before she could banish it. They were undercover as a married couple, after all...it wasn't exactly the most farfetched conclusion that one might arrive at.

“Hm?” Rocinante broke out of his contemplative state to look down at his partner. “That we’re ‘uhh’...?” He thought about this for a moment before arriving at the appropriate conclusion and his cheeks lit up to match hers. “Ehehehe…how scandalous!” He moved over to the settee where he’d placed his soiled garments and groaned in dismay. “I guess that means I actually have to rinse these out, then…”  
  
After an additional ten minutes or so, the two of them rejoined the party. As Aylin had predicted, their return garnered grins of approval from some and sneers of disdain from those who’d noticed their sudden and extended departure.

 _Snobs._  
  
Rocinante scanned the room for Denise, finding her still with their host, practically attached at the hip at this point. They were sitting down in a corner of the room that looked like it was some kind of mock up throne for the man to sit on. The seat was made entirely of glass, as ornate as anything else in the mansion, and Denise was slowly working her way into his lap.   
  
Leblanc seemed to smile genuinely at the woman as Rocinante studied them. She was naturally charming and she kept topping off his glass from several bottles on the table in front of them. Rocinante idly wondered if Denise were trying to seduce the man. He didn’t know anything about her personal life, even though they’d worked together for a while now, but he figured this tactic was more for the sake of business than pleasure. 

The evening progressed in much the same way that it had begun, save for the occasional giggle and whisper and the incessant questions regarding the relationship between "Pietro" and "Natasha." Some of the guests peppered them with questions such as where they had met, how long they had been married, how Pietro proposed, how many children they were going to have and so on. It became troublesome, however Aylin surmised that a "newlyweds who couldn't keep their hands off each other" front was preferable to people suspecting them of foul play, and so she reluctantly played along.

Finally the sun began to set, signaling that it was time for Rocinante and Aylin to take their places on the rooftop in preparation for the rendezvous. They bid the small crowd around them farewell, citing it was time to go back home and receiving knowing grins and waggling eyebrows in return.

Aylin did her best to ignore their remarks, quickly scanning the room and noting that Denise was in the process of coaxing Leblanc elsewhere, pressed up against him and whispering things into his ear that he seemed rather receptive to. She didn't really want to think about Denise's extracurricular activities, though she supposed if it kept Leblanc distracted, then all the better for the mission.

Accessing the estate's rooftop balcony was surprisingly easy with Rocinante's devil fruit ability, as they managed to slip past the guards unnoticed and scale the wall with relative ease. Once at the top, they took a quick look around for something that could provide suitable cover while they listened in on the meeting to come. Like much of the estate, the balcony's perimeter was decorated with elaborate glass structures which eventually met with the wall of the estate.

"Hey...over here," Aylin called out in a low voice, despite the area being protected by Rocinante's barrier for the moment. She'd discovered a small niche on the side of the roof where the moonlight did not reach; a space between two intricate pillars in which they could both hide. "It might be a little tight," she added with a pointed look at his large frame, "but I think it's our best option."

Rocinante squeezed into the space she’d indicated and gestured for her to join him, smiling at her a bit shyly. The day of pretending hadn’t left him unaffected, and he was sure his face still held a healthy flush from all the teasing the guests had given the ‘newly married couple.'  
  
“Isn’t this romantic, Mrs. Sokolov?” He teased, earning a smack on the arm from his ‘wife.’ Rocinante moved to get out his cigarettes then realized the rising smoke would be visible and possibly blow their cover. He hadn’t had a smoke in some time and was really starting to crave one. He reluctantly tucked the pack back into his jacket as they settled in. It wouldn’t be much longer before the mole showed him or herself for the meeting on the roof top.   
  
He nudged Aylin with his shoulder. “Lin, I’m going to deactivate my power now.”   
  
She nodded in acknowledgement and seconds later, sounds of twilight filled their ears; crickets chirping, the brisk wind blowing past their ears, night birds calling to each other. They waited quietly for what seemed like ages, crouching in the shadows and keeping alert for any new activity. The air slowly began to chill, although Rocinante was something of a human furnace so Aylin didn't notice the cold much.

He shifted, lowering himself to his knees, their shoulders bumping as he did so. She felt a small amount of sympathy, as the space was quite cramped for someone of his stature and she imagined he must be uncomfortable. Still, it was too risky to change locations now, when someone could show up at any moment.

Then, as if on cue, they heard heavy footsteps on the glass stairway that led up to the balcony, muffled at first but the sounds became more clear as the person approached. Aylin and Rocinante exchanged quick glances and then focused their eyes on what they could see from their position...which was not much, unfortunately, given the large plant that was largely obstructing the view. They were able to see a flash of color from a long jacket as the person passed the top of the stairs and headed toward the center of the balcony.

For a few minutes afterward, nothing happened. The silence was only broken now and then by light scuffling from the stranger as he or she idled while waiting. Rocinante activated a momentary Calm spell on himself to sneeze violently, otherwise nothing of interest occurred. Aylin was beginning to feel her own muscles complain about the way she'd been crouching when finally the both of them perked up at the sound of more footsteps ascending the stairs.

"About time you got here," a male voice called out in a hushed tone.

A female giggle floated by their ears. "My, my, such impatience," she teased in a tone that clearly suggested that she did not care how long he had been waiting.

The man's frown was evident in his reply. "I don't have much time to waste, here. If I'm not back at headquarters soon, people are gonna ask questions. Can we just get on with this?"

"Ah, have it your way, spoilsport. Personally I thought we might have a drink first. In a place like this...it's not often I show up to such luxurious functions." She snickered again, likely receiving a look of disdain from the Syndicate mole. "Alright then, all business eh? Here's the deal. Regarding the rare merch you spoke of...turns out, we are interested in procuring it for a very special client of ours. I’ve been sent to accept your offer and hammer out the details.”

"Good," came the gruff response. "Then you’ll want to track the cargo, and be quick about it. The ship is en route from Widow’s Peak, and should pass by Raven Rock Cove...so if you're looking for an ambush point, that'd be it."

"Very well. Then we will stage an interception at that location. I trust you will be there to make sure that everything goes smoothly?"

There was no reply, though he must have nodded because a moment later the woman said, "Good."

Rocinante tapped a finger to his chin as the meeting between the mole and the Hive member was drawing to a close. There was something about the mole that he just couldn’t put his finger on, the way he spoke, the way he sounded reminded him of someone. But who?   
  
The woman from the Hive spoke up again just now. “I think I’ll go have that drink now. The offer’s still open if you care to join me.”  
  
“Didn’t I say earlier I was in a hurry?”  
  
“You’re certainly grumpy as ever…” She trailed off, ending her sentence with another giggle. “Well then, I’ll see you later.” The sounded of her clacking heels faded into the distance.  
  
There was muffled cursing from the gruff man, who waited until her footsteps were out of earshot before heading off himself. He was just about to pass the spot where Rocinante and Aylin were hiding when he tripped on some unseen object.

“Goddammit!” He yelled, probably louder than he intended to as he nearly face-planted, holding his arms out to break his fall with his hands just in time.  
  
As the man got back to his feet, his face was visible momentarily, revealing none other than the Blackburn Syndicate’s very own professional grouch.

Maynard.

Alarms went off in Rocinante’s head. How long had this been going on? Why Maynard? Why would he do this? What was his motive? He whipped his head to the side to exchange a flabbergasted look with his partner just as she was leaning in to make a remark.

What immediately followed was the sort of blunder that only Rocinante could achieve. He wildly misjudged their proximity and suddenly his mouth was crashing into hers, their noses pressing together.

It must have lasted only a second, if that. So short-lived that there was barely a thought to be spared. Aylin froze, uttering a muffled gasp of shock, her eyes growing wide as saucers as she felt the warmth of his lips against her own.

She pulled away with a start, bewilderment written all over her face. Her mouth hung ajar as she desperately tried to find the words appropriate for such a situation while all the blood in her body came rushing for her cheeks.

"I...what...?!"

Rocinante covered his mouth, his face flaming as he scrambled out of their cramped hiding place. “O-oh my gosh, Lin, I’m sorry! It was an accident!”  
  
Aylin refused to meet his face, picking herself up and dusting off the front of her dress, determined not to let him see how flustered she was. She began to walk away quickly, albeit a bit shakily, attempting to steer them back on course.

“Come on. We have the location. We need to get there before the Hive does to ensure we’re not discovered.”  
  
Rocinante jogged after her, catching up in only a couple of strides and placed his hand on her shoulder gently. “I…I really am sorry. I’d never do that without your permission, Lin…” His voice sounded pained.  
  
“It’s fine. It was just an accident.” She brushed his hand off her shoulder as gently as she could manage. “Really, let’s go. We don’t have any time to waste. It seems like Denise is going to be staying here the night anyway…” She made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat at the thought of the Curator’s antics. “We’ll come back for her later.”  
  
Rocinante was terrified that Aylin was mad at him and just trying to hold it in by being distant. But he didn’t want to press her so he just nodded. “Okay…let’s go. Be careful though, those heels don’t look very comfortable to run in.”  
  
Aylin chuckled darkly. Her footwear was the very _last_ thing on her mind at that moment.

 


	18. Death or DEATH

 

The news of Maynard being the mole within the Blackburn Syndicate was kept between Rocinante and Aylin for the remainder of the night. They had returned to their ship to find Denise absent, as predicted. While the discovery they'd made was huge, there was still time to discuss it and come up with the best plan of action. Maynard would need to return to headquarters first, and Aylin was confident that he would not be able to beat them to Raven Rock Cove. Muttering something about how they would meet with Denise in the morning, she retired to her bunk with no intention of emerging unless absolutely necessary.

Rocinante was at a loss. She wouldn't even  _ look _ at him, let alone allow him to apologize. Their trip back had been filled with the most awkward silence he'd ever had to endure. Surely the best thing to do now was to give her some space and hope that everything would be alright the next day.

However, when Aylin strode out to the galley the next morning, it became apparent to him that things were  _ not _ alright. To any onlooker, her behavior appeared completely ordinary. But he knew her better than most, and he could tell immediately that something was amiss. She refused to meet his eyes, only answered him with short replies and her usual familiarity with him had all but vanished. 

When Denise finally swaggered on board, her hair slightly mussed and her dress wrinkled, Aylin nudged Rocinante and rose from the table to go and catch her up on the events of the night before. Their reaction to Maynard being the mole would likely have been the same as Denise's had things not taken an unexpected turn. The Curator was positively bewildered; how could Maynard do such a thing? After all his father had done for the Syndicate! After all the Syndicate had done for him! Sure, Maynard had always been a cantankerous sort, but nobody would ever have questioned his loyalty. The news completely floored her.

The topic eventually shifted to how they would proceed with the discovery. First and foremost, it was decided that the cargo would certainly need to be protected. They would travel to Raven Rock Cove ahead of the time that the ambush could take place and take out the Hive associates before the Syndicate's mission could be sabotaged.

After that...Maynard would be properly dealt with.

Aylin walked out of the room without sparing another glance toward Rocinante, her lips forming a thin line as she tried to force her focus onto the upcoming fight. She made sure that all was in order; weapons, armor, ammunition. Her long sword could stand to be sharper, she thought upon inspection, and made a mental note to take care of that before they arrived at the ambush location.

She eventually found herself leaning over the railing of the ship, watching the current below as her mind drifted elsewhere.

It had been an accident. Aylin knew that even without Rocinante having to tell her. Had he been anyone else—anyone at all—there’d be no excuse in all the world that would make her believe it had truly been an unfortunate mishap…but Rocinante wasn't just anyone else. His clumsiness was on a level all its own. The man was a walking disaster.

But even though she knew that, she still couldn't stop her thoughts from revisiting the incident. The way his lips had felt pressed against hers in that fleeting moment…the memory seemed stuck on repeat in her mind and she couldn’t seem to shake it off. This was ridiculous! It hadn't even been a real kiss! But still she couldn’t help but wonder what it might have been like if it  _ had  _ been…

No. No, no. Not this again. There were too many obstacles, she reminded herself yet again. There were too many risks. Perhaps she’d made a huge mistake in allowing him to become so close to her.

Aylin cursed under her breath when she heard footsteps approaching from behind, followed by a telltale stumble.

Rocinante cursed audibly as he hit the deck face-first. He’d meant to walk toward her purposefully and confidently, but his inherent clumsiness always spoiled his best laid plans. After picking himself up and dusting off his pants, he moved over to lean against the railing beside her, making sure to keep a safe distance between them.

She didn't even look up to acknowledge his presence. He hated this. But he was not going to stand by and let a huge rift open between them and destroy their friendship just because of another one of his ill-fated fumbles.

“Lin…” He began quietly, but paused to see if she’d answer him.

She didn’t, although she had a subtle look on her face that made him wonder just what in the world she was thinking about. Her lips hinted at a frown and her brow was slightly drawn. From his vantage point, he could tell she was troubled.

He put his hand on her shoulder, gently turning her sideways so he could see her face. “Lin, please, why won’t you at least look at me? I’m  _ really _ sorry…you’ve got to believe me.”

Aylin almost reluctantly tilted her head upward to look at him. As she took in the melancholy written all over his face, a sigh escaped her. "I'm not mad,” she said after a short pause. “I already told you to stop worrying about it. It was just…a  _ really _ weird accident. I know that."

She reached up to run a hand through her short hair, realizing how frustrating that must sound to him. There she was, insisting that nothing was wrong when clearly that was not the case. But he would have to accept it, because she couldn't tell him the real reason she was so bothered by the incident.

"Look, there's a lot going on," she added, hoping to steer the topic elsewhere. "We just found out Maynard's been moonlighting for Hive. I never liked the guy myself, but when Blackburn finds out...he's not just going to be kicked out..."

Rocinante shook his head, not buying her explanation in the least. She’d always been very frank with him about her feelings—or lack thereof, in this case—and at that moment she seemed almost anxious. Uneasy. Was it really all because of Maynard? Sure, the betrayal was quite a blow to the syndicate, but he found it odd for her to be this shaken up over it.

“I know there’s a lot going on, but I’m not asking you to think about that. I never liked that cranky old bastard that much either, and I don’t want to see him suffer the consequences for treachery, but…” He leaned down so that he wasn’t towering above her and gently ran one finger through her hair, tucking some stray strands behind her ear. “This is about you…and me. Nothing else. You’ve never acted like this before...and I say and do a lot of embarrassing things all the time. You can tell me how you’re really feeling, Lin. I won’t laugh, I promise.”

Aylin held back a shiver from his touch, provoking some unbidden thoughts that had her taking a step away from him. "No, Rocinante, look...that's just the thing," she said, willing her face to maintain a stern look. "There  _ is _ no 'you and me,' alright? I know you want to think that eventually there could be, and maybe it's my own fault for letting you hold on to that hope, but it's just not going to happen." Her brow furrowed as some of her emotion escaped from its barricade. "I've said it so many times; how much longer am I going to have to keep hurting you?"

Rocinante was taken aback; he hadn’t expected her to answer like that. It was far more emotional than he’d ever seen her get over a discussion of their relationship. When had he ever expected anything of her? She’d never given him even an inkling of hope. Not once. But even through the constant rejections, he’d tried not to dwell too much on it—his own future was uncertain, after all—and focus on the positive things in life. Simply loving her in the now, unrequited as it were, was the best he could do and he had learned to be alright with that.

“I do nice things for you because I care about you. Because I _ want _ to. I don’t cry myself to sleep every night over you, Lin, and I’m well aware of your stance on moving our relationship beyond friendship.”

Actually, he was a little miffed that she’d bring this up all of a sudden. It wasn’t as if he believed she’d suddenly fallen in love with him due to what had so clearly been an accident. She always had loads of excuses and reasons they could never be together, even when he never asked for them.

He continued, “You’re the best person I know, yes, and I enjoy spending time with you. I’m so grateful I got to know you. But you are not hurting me. Your excuses don’t  _ hurt _ me. What were they again? Oh, yes, you do rattle them off often enough so that I have them memorized: we’re coworkers,” he began, ticking them off on his fingers, “you’re ten years older than me, you have a child, this is a dangerous business and one of us will probably be killed… So what? None of that matters to me, Lin. The thing that matters to me is YOU.”

"I'm  _ eleven _ years older than you, actually," she corrected him, aggravation bleeding through in her tone. "That's a big difference, and it DOES matter. When I was your age, you were ten! I was raising a child by then. How can you say it doesn't matter to you? Do you even know what it means to have that kind of responsibility? You can't just say things like that so easily!"

Rocinante shook his head in frustration. “It’s like you’re not listening to me at all! That has nothing to do with what I just said!” He stood up to his full height. “You’re telling me everything but what I want to know. You have all these excuses, all these reasons, but NONE of them have anything to do with how you actually FEEL.”

He stared down at her for what seemed like an eternity, then his face softened; he knew she found it difficult to express emotions and they clearly weren't going to get anywhere in this kind of standoff.

“Lin…please… You’ve never once said we can’t be together because you don’t have feelings for me. That should be the only reason we can’t be together. Just tell me you don’t have feelings for me and I’ll never mention it again."

Aylin froze. Her mouth opened to speak, but no sound came out. For a prolonged moment she found herself staring up at his face, locking eyes with him and seeing every memory they'd made together reflecting back at her; every kind gesture he'd ever done for her; every time he'd been there for her when she'd needed someone to talk to; every time his smile had brightened her day.

The late morning breeze gently tousled her hair. She drew in a breath.

"You really need me to say it? Fine. I'll say it: I don't have feelings for you," she said slowly, a hollow note in her voice. She looked away after a few beats and turned sharply on her heel, stiffly stalking off toward her bunk.

Rocinante stood there completely frozen watching her retreating figure disappear into the depths of the ship. He felt as if he’d just been punched in the gut. Slowly, he sank down onto the deck, crossing his legs and holding his head in his hands.

He’d skirted around what she said earlier about her giving him hope to hold onto for their future, but she was right. He had hoped for it, more than he’d ever hoped for anything for as long as he could remember. Hope was a luxury for someone like him, and he couldn’t help but think he should have known better.

His chest felt tight, his heart constricting with the aftershock of her words. 

She hadn’t even hesitated.

Things would no doubt be different between them from here on out. It would be difficult for a friendship to survive this level of unrequited love. Rocinante wondered how long it would take before the ache in his heart would go away. It was the first time he’d felt the sting of rejection this terribly.

He almost wished he’d never told her how he felt, but it was too late for that. There was no going back. All he could do now was try to move forward.

 

oOo

 

Raven Rock Cove was quite a bit nicer than they’d imagined it would be. The sparsely populated summer island had a constant breeze wafting in from over the clear blue water. They’d arrived earlier that day to find the weather quite pleasant and then the air had become cooler at night.

There was a sheer cliff right next to the cove, the cove itself boasting several caves that had deep pools with underground passages that led who knows where.

Setting up an ambush point at  _ another _ ambush point was something else, though they’d managed to get there far ahead of the Hive members. They’d overheard Maynard say he had to get back to HQ, but perhaps he only meant he had to call in at a certain time to cover his tracks for his alibi.

The group still couldn’t believe his treachery. He was good, they’d give him that; staying on the bottom rung of the syndicate and not making any noise other than the routine complaining and gruff remarks that had become his trademark. Hell, he’d been a staple within the organization for longer than many members could recall.

Denise elected to stay behind and make some calls from her personal den den mushi, while Aylin and Rocinante scouted a good area to hide their crew. Before arriving, Aylin had seen to it that her squad was well-armed. They were trying to keep the operation as tight and straightforward as possible; get Maynard, stop the transfer and leave the island with everyone intact. The crew they’d brought along with them was small in number, but would be able to supply cover fire and back up if needed. They had no way of knowing how many forces the Hive would send, but that was the reason they’d arrived so early.

She hadn’t spoken directly to Rocinante since their tiff earlier, and Rocinante in turn hadn’t tried to bring up the subject again. He was slightly more subdued than he normally was, putting a rather unusual amount of focus into weapons preparation as well as scouting and preparing the area for the upcoming ambush. Aylin was just glad that his attention seemed to be on the mission as opposed to dwelling on the discussion that had no doubt caused irreparable damage to their friendship; it was bad enough remembering the way his face had looked earlier that morning and she wasn’t keen on seeing that again.

The sun sank below the horizon now, the purple sky turning blue-black as the stars came out one by one.

Aylin paced the area she and Rocinante had deemed acceptable for lying in wait. One of the Raiders who had accompanied them sat high up in a tree nearby, scanning the surrounding sea for any sign of the Hive ship. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Rocinante standing off to the side and having a smoke. Things were eerily quiet; Rocinante had activated "Silent" a while ago, canceling out all the nighttime sounds that would otherwise fill the air. She let out a small sigh, her fingers falling to her hip and fidgeting with a loose piece of grip tape on the hilt of her sword.

They had been waiting for hours and there was still no sign of the enemy ship. Aylin was about to suggest they take another look around when the Raider called down from his perch in the tree.

"The Syndicate's ship is heading toward the bay!"

"What?" Aylin's eyes snapped up to the treed figure. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, no mistaking it."

She shook her head, a frown pulling at her lips. "Then where the hell is the Hive's ship?" Something was wrong. They should have already arrived. She cursed under her breath. "No...unless it wasn't a ship we were supposed to be looking for..." Aylin cast a glance toward her partner. "Rocinante, let's head down to those caves. I bet that's where we'll find our ambush."

Rocinante answered her with a silent nod, his long strides taking him ahead of the group. He was sure to pave the way for the rest of them, holding long branches back, but being careful not to leave a visible trail.

He was concentrating so hard that he didn’t even slip or fall once. All-business Rocinante was truly a sight to behold. The group crept quietly along the wall towards the set of caves, keeping to the most shadowed part, completely silent within the bubble.

They noticed light emanating from one of the caves and Rocinante stole all the way to the lip, peering the tiniest fraction inside, but it was empty. Smooth, phosphorescent rocks embedded in the walls were creating a blue glow inside the cave. This cave’s pool was thankfully further back from the mouth, saving Rocinante from certain death as he stumbled and landed face first in the dust. Just ahead was a fork of descending tunnels that stretched out ahead of them, also illuminated in blue until they were swallowed by darkness.

“Lin! Did you see this?” He pointed excitedly at the walls and the ceiling of the cave, smiling brightly, and for a moment all the tension from earlier was forgotten. The same blue glow came from the pool of water as well, no doubt holding many wonders itself.

Aylin's eyes traveled up from his prone form to the spectacle he was pointing to, managing a slight nod as she took in the sight. "Yeah...I noticed that this cove is just south of Strohkirch...interesting that it has the same geogra—”

Suddenly the sound of footsteps hushed her and she instinctively shrank back against the wall, motioning for the others to do the same. Whispers echoed throughout the walls of the tunnels ahead, making it difficult to tell which one to watch for movement.

"Shit, we got here just in time," Warren, one of the Raiders, muttered to the rest of the group. He quickly shoved a new clip into his gun, cocking it and aiming it toward the middle of the three entrances.

Aylin gripped the hilt of her sword with both hands, sinking slightly into a ready stance as the sound of boots scuffing gravel came closer.

Moments after the movement was detected further into the tunnels, a throng of bodies burst forth, all wielding weapons and dressed in armored clothing. They strode quickly toward the entrance, talking in low tones amongst one another.

"The Syndicate ship's already here, I got word from the other side," one voice said.

Another replied, "Good. Hurry it up, guys, we ain't got all night to do this!"

Aylin tried to count the group, estimating at least a dozen Hive members. Her own team was outnumbered inside the cave, but they at least had the advantage of being hidden.  She waited until the crowd of Hive combatants rounded the corner before signaling for her crew to begin, then she lunged forward and assaulted the Hive members from the side.

There were loud shouts of surprise as her longsword slashed across several bodies, immediately followed by Warren's gunshots. The Hive warriors reacted instantly, several of them leaping out of harm's way to quickly assess the situation.

"Syndicate!!" One of them yelled out in a warning to the others. The cave instantly erupted into chaos, filled with the shouting of men and women, the clanging of metal and the scuffing of shoes. Someone was thrown into the pool nearby with a loud 'splash.'

Rocinante moved silently through the chaos, having placed a calm spell on himself. He used his fists, legs and strong arms to take out enemies left and right, then pulled out his pistol to disable a few more. He didn’t want to use it too heavily in such an enclosed space to minimize the chance of friendly fire.

After tripping up several more grunts, and nearly tripping himself, he had a thought: how did these people even know that they were Syndicate? It was baffling, actually. The cave was practically pitch dark and it wasn’t as if any of the Hive had even SEEN them. So why…?  _ How? _

He was unable to ponder on it much longer as an even louder rumbling erupted from the caves. Rocinante gulped as a second enemy squadron emerged from one of the tunnels, pushing a canon.  He dissipated the calm spell and scrambled to find his partner in the fray. “LIN!”

A flash of orange caught his eye while he'd been quickly scanning the crowd of combatants. Aylin ducked beneath a swinging blade, dropping onto her back to kick the opponent's abdomen before she leapt back up in one fluid motion to deliver the deciding blow.

Hearing her name, she looked up, her eyes wildly searching the cave until she saw Rocinante in the corner. She didn't stop fighting, rather maneuvered herself closer to him in the midst of exchanging blows with several other Hive grunts.

"They knew it was us!" She said, voicing what he'd just been thinking moments ago as she felled another enemy. "Something's not right, we have to get back outside! We're not getting anywhere stuck in here!"

Rocinante nodded, reaching into his jacket and pulling out two large grenades. “WARREN! KAUFMAN! FALL BACK!” He yelled before yanking the pins out and tossing them as far from his body as they would go.

He grabbed Aylin’s arm and hauled her toward the mouth of the cave, breaking into the cool night air as just as the explosions and ensuing screams rocked the cave behind them. Rocinante turned back for the slightest second and saw to his relief that Warren and Kaufman had made it out as well.

But there was no time to regroup and re-plan, as the angry Hive members started getting their bearings and those who were able came staggering out of the mouth. The group continued to put distance between themselves in and the caves when a canon shot was heard from the other side of the cove, echoing off the face of the cliff.

Eyes following the direction of the sound, they saw another burst of light as one of the Hive canons blasted at the ship they had sailed in on, forcing it from its hiding spot among the tall, jagged rocks lining the cove.

“SHIT!” Warren cursed and began running back towards the rocky beach. Their vessel should have been well-concealed, though it seemed that the enemy was far more familiar with the area than the Syndicate.

Rocinante looked torn as he watched Warren's retreating form, wondering if he should follow the man and help. But they’d come in the first place to capture Maynard, and they couldn’t let that bastard get away.

Aylin exchanged glances with him and nodded, understanding his feelings. She glanced at the remaining Raider. “Kaufman, go with Warren and make sure no one takes control of the ship. Rocinante and I will stay on course for the interception of the traitor," she said.

Kaufman turned without another word and took off at a dead sprint after Warren as the ship began returning fire.

Thunder rolled in the distance, followed shortly be a spattering of raindrops. With half the party now on their way elsewhere, Aylin and Rocinante quickly took stock of their surroundings. Gunfire in the distance suggested that their backup would more than likely be delayed until the situation was under control. Meanwhile as black smoke billowed out from the caves they had just escaped from, several ash-stained bodies began to emerge, only to find themselves barricaded by the boulders that had fallen in front of the entrance thanks to the explosion.

That should buy them some time, but not much... Aylin glanced at Rocinante, motioning for him to follow her. "Come on, we'd better move. We need to find out where Maynard's Syndicate ship ended up and get there before the Hive does!"

Rocinante’s eyes swept over the gloomy coast as they ran along the beach under the cover of darkness, searching for the Syndicate ship that Warren had pointed out earlier. Hive would be making their way over to ambush it... He wondered if any of the crew had noticed signs of combat. Would they decide not to stop at the cove after all? Though he supposed even if they were against it, Maynard would surely override any of their objections.

"There! Just behind those trees!" He suddenly said as they drew nearer to what appeared to be a small inlet shrouded in foliage, spotting the telltale outline of a mast in the darkness.

They slowed in their steps, creeping closer to the low-hanging tree branches. Voices began to drift over, although only half of what was said could be heard clearly; the rain pattering down upon the leaves above them drowned out the rest.

"...don't think this...great place to stop..."

"...think he's that worried...incoming storm!"

"...such a pain in my ass, can't he see someone's having it out on the other side? I freaking..."

"...might call the marines! If we get caught..."

Aylin carefully peered through a gap in the leaves. The Syndicate ship sat in the water about a hundred yards away, occupied by several crew members carrying lanterns which gave the scene a soft orange glow.

"I don't see Maynard anywhere," Rocinante remarked beside her, keeping his voice low. He refrained from putting up a Silent barrier, allowing them to eavesdrop on the crew.

"I don't either, but judging by how pissed off these guys are, he's definitely on board." A low rumble of thunder came from above and she waited for it to pass before speaking again. "It seems he made up an excuse about wanting to wait out the storm..." Aylin debated simply rushing the ship; she could shout a warning to the crew and hope that they all turned against Maynard, though there was no guarantee that they would. She didn't recognize any of the crew, which meant they were likely hired mercenaries with no other affiliation to the Syndicate.

The redhead remained deep in thought, trying to determine whether or not they should continue to keep watch over the ship and, if so, for how much longer.

“Lin…” Rocinante whispered, trying to get her attention.

But then again, it was only a matter of time until the Hive members they’d bombed back in the cave sent something after them...

“Lin!”

Though they probably assumed that the group had all returned to their home ship anyway, and had no idea the two of them were out here. She hoped Warren and Kaufman would be able to keep them away and avoid Syndicate casualties. Denise was on that ship, and she was an immense asset to the organization. 

“Lin!” Rocinante nudged her with his elbow, finally gaining her attention. “Look…” He passed her the pair of binoculars he’d been using to get a better look at the ship.

She gazed through them, her eyes taking a second to focus. “What exactly am I looking at?”

Rocinante leaned down closer to her, his voice in her ear, hot breath tickling her neck. “There, the same line as the center mast. Look on the side of the ship.”

Despite the involuntary shiver, Aylin managed to clear her head when he pulled back, quickly locating the spot he'd just described. Her mouth pulled into a frown. “Son of a bitch…”

There was Maynard, lowering himself down into a lifeboat waiting below. She had no doubt that he was on his way to meet up with the Hive members. That way the Syndicate ship could be easily overtaken, and he’d escape without a scratch.

She thrust the binoculars back at her partner and pulled out her long sword again.  “Hive can't be too far behind us. When they get here, they're going to cause an all-out war..." Her brow furrowed. "We need to get to Maynard before anything else happens.”

Rocinante nodded and pulled out his pistol, cocking it back in preparation. “Silent…” He put the bubble around himself and Aylin and concentrated on maintaining it.

They moved quickly toward the shore, where they would lay in wait for the moment that Maynard arrived on land. Ducking behind a cluster of large boulders, they both watched the small lifeboat as it bobbed up and down in the increasingly choppy sea. The force of the brewing storm propelled the boat forward, and it wasn't long before the bottom of the wooden vessel scraped the rocky beach.

Maynard quickly climbed out, withdrawing a duffel bag and slinging it over his shoulder. Moments later, several shots rang out from the ship's location, followed by the shouts of the mercenaries as they responded to the Hive’s surprise attack.

Aylin cursed under her breath. She'd always known that Maynard was out for himself, but she'd never quite imagined that he could be so cruel as to lead a ship full of unsuspecting people to their deaths. Sure, they were mercenaries…hired swords and guns who weren't innocent by any means, but she of all people knew that not all of them were deserving of such an untimely demise.

Presently, Maynard was making his way up the beach toward their hiding spot, wearing his usual frown and not even sparing his escape vessel a second glance. He stepped past the group of boulders and Aylin slunk out of the shadows behind him.

The tip of her sword prodded his back. Maynard froze.

"Sacrificing a whole crew just to cover your ass? That's cold, even for you," she said in a low tone, not realizing right away that Rocinante had removed his sound barrier.

Maynard didn't turn around at first. She saw his shoulders shake in the darkness and then heard a mirthless chuckle. "Figures they’d send Wild here to try and stop me. Did you bring your klutzy boyfriend with you, too?"

Aylin growled and without warning she swung her sword in a downward slash.  A loud 'clang' range through the air and Maynard was suddenly facing her, blocking her blow with a blade of his own.

He smirked through his thick beard. "You're too late, Wild. It's already done!"

She pushed back against his cutlass. "I don't care about the cargo," she said through clenched teeth. "I'm only here to take you down! You think you're really getting away with this?"

They exchanged several more blows. Maynard let out a raucous laugh. "Getting away with it? What makes you think I ever intended to return to the Syndicate after this?!” He spat at the ground as the two of them fought for the upper hand. “A whole life of dedication and loyalty! And what do I get for my efforts?!"

Rocinante fired a warning shot that went whizzing past Maynard’s head. An instant later he was by Aylin’s side and growling down at the man, “The Syndicate doesn’t owe you shit! You get what you put into it, Maynard, and all I’ve ever seen  _ you _ put in is bitching and moaning. You’re WRONG for what you’re doing. We’re not the ‘good guys’ of the world by any means, but  _ this… _ sacrificing other lives for the sake of your own gain is just deplorable.”

Maynard's face was a mask of irritation. “Shut your mouth, you brat! What would you know about it!? You’re just a baby, barely weaned off his mother’s tit! You don’t know shit about the world!”

Rocinante shook his head sadly as he reloaded his gun, pointing it directly at the man’s head. “Don’t…” He narrowed his eyes and stepped forward, pushing Maynard back toward the beach where they’d be in full view of everyone nearby.

The rain was slowly growing from a light mist to a miserable drizzle. A clap of thunder rolled in the distance out over the water.

Maynard lowered his weapon, backing up slowly. “You won’t shoot me...you’re too soft! You  _ owe  _ me, in fact. Heh. Yeah…that’s right. You remember the times we spent together? How I trained you up so the Inner Circle could make you into some kind of big shot and leave  _ me _ on the lowest rung,” the older man snarled, determined to find a weakness and regain the advantage.

Rocinante's eyes narrowed. "That was your plan all along, though, wasn't it? Keep your head low and play the part so nobody would ever figure it out, right?" The irony of his own words was not lost on him.

"We can do this one of two ways," Aylin said as she advanced on one side while Rocinante took the other. "I think you know where I'm going with this..."

Maynard scowled. "So, it's be killed by the two of you, or surrender and be mercilessly tortured to death at the hands of Blackburn's personal lackeys? Death or  _ death _ . Hah!"

A light fog was forming in the wooded regions of the island, leading up to the sheer face of the cliff. Maynard's eyes darted up and down the area before snapping back toward the two associates now creeping up on either side of him. He took several steps backward, holding his cutlass at the ready.

"THERE HE IS! THAT SON OF A BITCH!!" A shout came from behind the three of them all of a sudden, followed by several gunshots. They turned immediately to see one of the mercenaries running straight for them, waving twin pistols in the air and firing shots to signal for backup.

"MAYNARD, YOU PIECE OF SHIT, YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!!"

Aylin grimaced slightly, her eyes darting between the mercenary and Maynard. "Looks like they figured out you set them up," she remarked.

Maynard stood his ground, a cocky smirk pasted across his face. He spared a brief glance over his shoulder at the oncoming mercenaries, and then he threw himself into action. Diving forward, he rolled across the sand between the two Syndicate members, simultaneously pulling a small pistol from his jacket and firing several shots at his attackers as soon as he hit the ground. The moment he managed to regain his footing was the very moment he took off at a full sprint, heading for the pathway up to the cliff.

“SHIT!” Rocinante whipped around so quickly he nearly stumbled, his eyes wide.

He and Aylin immediately took off after him, watching his form disappear into the fog ahead of them.

“Where the hell does he think he’s going?!” Aylin yelled as she and Rocinante headed for the path.

“That wily bastard sure can move fast for an old guy!” Rocinante’s long strides easily put him in the lead and he prayed internally to whatever gods might exist that he didn’t trip and fall this time. The cliff was steep, but thankfully the pathway looked as if it had been carved there by the many comings and goings of other people.

They heard the distant sound of branches cracking and leaves crunching from up ahead as Maynard continued to evade their pursuit. From behind came the angry shouts of the mercenaries who had joined the chase, and it was more than likely that the Hive raiders weren't too far behind.

"What a damn mess! When I get my hands on that son of a bitch...!"  Aylin gritted her teeth as she dashed around a sharp corner of the trail behind Rocinante, just in time to see him go skidding off the path and tumbling head over heels into the thick brush. She followed him without a second thought, hearing him curse under his breath as he quickly scrambled to his feet.

"Don't let me hold us up, keep going!" He urged her, but she was glancing around thoughtfully.

"No, let's head this way instead," she said, nodding at the steep shrubbery-covered hill before them. "We'll get there faster off the trail. Come on!"

Aylin broke into a run again, Rocinante quickly following her as soon as he'd silenced the both of them with a Calm spell as to avoid any tag-alongs. She wondered how Warren and Kaufman had fared in assisting the Syndicate ship fend off their Hive attackers. Hopefully they'd been successful in their endeavors and Denise would be able to send them back-up very soon. They'd be in need of it once they reached the top.

Nothing they ran through made a single sound, even as the branches slapped across their cheeks and sticks snapped beneath their feet. The climb was steeper but swifter nonetheless. Before long they had broken through the clearing at the top, skidding to a stop as they quickly glanced around for any sign of Maynard. The plant life tapered off until there was nothing but a bare stretch of sparse grass, which ended abruptly once it reached the sharp edge of the cliff.

Thunder rumbled loudly above them and a moment later, the rain began coming down harder. Aylin and Rocinante exchanged glances; it seemed that they had arrived at the top ahead of Maynard after all, which would certainly play into their favor. Weapons drawn, they carefully crept toward the trailhead, awaiting the traitor's arrival.

A minute or so later, heaving with exertion, Maynard finally appeared, looking none too pleased at the fact that his pursuers had beaten him.

“Well, well…guess the offer for death or  _ death _ still stands, does it?” Slowly, he lowered his weapons to the ground, never taking his eyes off the two of them as he did so. He showed them his empty hands as he stood again.

Rocinante removed the Calm spell from himself and Aylin as they both walked over to the man. Rocinante grabbed his pistol while Aylin kicked the cutlass he’d dropped to the side.

“You’ve screwed over a  _ lot  _ of people,” Aylin said as she glowered down at him. “You’re going to answer for what you’ve done!”

“Go ahead and kill me then, what are you waiting for? Rather it be quick by your hand than have those Syndicate assholes torturing me for every last scrap of intel!”

“Who says we’re not going to give you the same treatment?” Aylin practically snarled.

Maynard laughed raucously, the sound somewhat muffled by the pouring rain. “You don’t have the balls, NEITHER OF YOU. Don’t know how you managed to climb up so far without the killing intent the Syndicate prizes so highly. HAH!”

“Trust me, you’d be lucky if  _ we _ were the ones to kill you.” Aylin glared fiercely as she stepped closer to him, pointing her long sword at his throat. It unnerved her how he didn’t even look scared, only arrogant and cocky, just like he’d always been.

Unless…

Oh,  _ no. _

“Darlings…” A voice came from behind them along with the sound of a gun cocking. “It would be a shame if everyone had to die.”

They could almost feel their blood run cold. Rocinante turned around slowly. There was no mistaking that voice.

“Denise…?”

“So sorry, Rocinante, but I don’t want you to hurt him. You see, we’re on the same side, although I detest him and his deplorable attitude. He doesn’t smell very nice, either. But you can’t force refinement on a brute.” She chuckled in her usual way.

"It's about damn time you decided to show up!" Maynard growled. “Just kill them so we can get out of here, don’t you hear the people piling up behind me out for my blood?!”

"Your own fault for being sloppy, isn't it?"

Aylin's face was awash with alarm as the rain beat down on them all, soaking everyone to the bone. She gripped her long sword more tightly, lest she drop it in shock. "You...you played us...! All this time, right under our noses...a Syndicate  _ Curator _ ..." She swallowed, her features contorting into a glower as she drew back her blade. "You  _ conniving _ fucking bitch. Whatever Blackburn does to him is going to be like a  _ holiday _ compared to what's going to happen to you!"

She pushed off the ground in an instant, rushing for Denise. The long sword was a blur as it sang through the air. But instead of making contact, Aylin was struck in mid-air. She found herself suddenly hitting the ground and skidding through the mud, her eyes wild in disbelief as she looked up at the source of the blow.

"Well don't look so shocked, darling," Denise said with a smirk, hands on her hips after the devastating kick she'd just delivered. "I abhor getting my hands dirty, of course, but you honestly didn't think I'd gotten this far without knowing how to handle myself, did you?"

Aylin's eyes narrowed as she leapt up again, grabbing her blade to follow up on the first attempt. Swing after vicious swing, Denise evaded every attack until she sank a darkened, heeled shoe into the redhead's ribs.

Coughing, Aylin took a knee, sword still clutched in one hand while the other covered her side. "Haki...?" Rainwater ran in rivulets down her forehead and into her eyes until she was squinting to see. Several gunshots rang out behind her, and it took her a moment to associate the sounds with Rocinante and Maynard.

Further beyond them, dark outlines of bodies began emerging from the trailhead. Mercenaries, Syndicate allies and Hive enemies alike broke into a cacophony of shouts and struggles as they advanced on the group whilst fighting among each other. 

Aylin uttered an expletive as she saw the outline belonging to Rocinante being pushed back toward her. They had nowhere to run at this point; it was either into the fray or off the side of the cliff.

It was looked as though the offer for "death or  _ death _ " had been turned upon the two of them.

Rocinante reached her side shortly, panting from exertion. “Lin…are you alright?” He could just make out blood beginning to seep from her side, even as it was being washed away by the torrential downpour.

“Gentleman!” Denise’s voice crooned from up ahead, “I make you an offer of peace, not war! And better yet…I offer you a  _ golden _ opportunity. Wealth…fame… _ power _ . All of it can be yours, darlings! What’s the Blackburn Syndicate ever really done for any of you? Nothing but dirty, tedious labor and no real pay-off, that’s what! You owe no allegiance to the Blackburn Syndicate! Leave that dog be and come to work for a  _ real  _ organization."

Even as she spoke, much of the fighting was beginning to die down. Her level of influence was truly a sight to behold. Aylin might have been impressed under different circumstances. As it were, the discord between the three groups was their only hope of getting out of there alive, and that hope was dissipating quickly right before her eyes.

Denise continued, encouraged by the fact that she'd succeeded in gaining their interest. "Your first task? Simple: kill those two high-ranking Syndicate members, lest they bring tales of your treachery back home with them…” She smirked, gesturing toward the two who were trapped like rats at the cliff’s edge.

Rocinante bit his lip as all three conflicting groups suddenly became one in a single moment. As they began to advance, he found himself glancing between them and Aylin.

_ He couldn’t let her die. _

Not here. Not like this. Not while she had a child back home who depended on her. And even though he promised he’d never bring it up again...well, she’d just have to forgive him for one last lie.

The woman stood shakily to her feet, holding her long sword defensively in front of her. She gave Rocinante a sidelong look, a strong resolve in her eyes. “Looks bad, doesn't it? Even if all we can do at this point is try to take as many of these backstabbers with us...then we’ll go down fighting!” She declared, her face set in determination as the rain plastered her hair to her forehead.

Rocinante smiled back at her, feeling a sense of peace in that moment. He turned and put his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her with tender eyes.

“At least  _ I _ will…” He bent closer to her level as she stared back at him in bewilderment. “Lin, I love you.”

The sweet smile never left his lips as he pushed her off the sheer face of the cliff, down toward the safety of the water below, just as the amalgamation of mercenaries and black market thugs opened fire.

 


	19. Liar

Aylin found herself suddenly plummeting through the air, her face stricken with horror, arm still desperately outstretched even as the distance became impossible. She heard herself scream and the sound was drowned out by the noise of rapid gunfire from above.

Falling, falling...until she felt a hard, stinging slap against her skin. Ice immediately encased her. She couldn't breathe. She sank further and further down, and it took her muddled mind a moment to realize that she was underwater. A mouthful of it invaded her nose upon her instinctual gasp for breath, causing her to frantically flail her limbs, propelling herself toward the surface.

She broke through, coughing between taking gulps of air and treading water as she swung her head left and right, searching the darkness.

“Roci!” She shouted, though her voice was drowned out by the sound of crashing waves.

He'd been planning to jump off after her, hadn't he? Aylin craned her neck upward, her eyes fixated on the cliff top. The last image of his sweet smile was stuck in her mind and she felt a whole range of emotions burn through her in a single instant.

Hell no.

She kicked off in an instant, furiously swimming for the shore. She had to get back up there. She couldn't let him face that group of bloodthirsty criminals on his own. That was insanity; what was he thinking? That idiot! Aylin clenched her teeth as she swam, ignoring the burn in her protesting limbs. If she reached the beach quickly enough, then surely she could dash up the shortcut they'd taken before.

Surely she could get there in time.

A dozen different scenarios flashed through her mind as Aylin's arms worked double-time to desperately drive herself toward land.

He couldn't…

She wouldn't let him.

Aylin was so focused on reaching the shore that she failed to notice the large vessel that now loomed over her. She would have swam right past it, had a rope ladder not fallen into the water beside her with a loud 'splash.'

"Wild! Is that you?" The outline of a man appeared, leaning over the railing of the lower deck. "Kaufman, she's alive!! Hurry up and grab her!" He shouted, already halfway down the ladder.

Before Aylin could think to object, two pairs of arms were reaching for her. Kaufman and Warren each grabbed one of her arms, hauling her from the icy sea and up the ladder. They dragged her onto the deck of the ship, where she violently shoved them away as soon as she'd regained her bearings.

"Get off me!! We have to go back up there!" They made no move to comply with her demand, so she grabbed Kaufman by the collar. "NOW!!"

Warren pulled her off of the other man. "Hey, easy!! You're injured as it is, and besides that, Denise has her whole group of Hive bastards with her up there! It's a damn miracle you even made it out of that mess alive! We're going straight back to the Syndicate to report this disaster!"

Aylin whirled around to shoot back, "The hell we are!! Rocinante is still up there, we can't leave him to--"

"IT'S TOO LATE!!" Warren snapped back. "You think anyone is walking away from that?! You're smarter than this, Wild, you know it's Goddamned hopeless! If you go back up there, you won't be coming back, and we need you here!"

Kaufman spoke up just then. "Guys! Hey! Something just fell off the cliff!"

The other two glanced over just in time to see the shape of a large, flailing figure flop into the sea.

Warren's eyes went wide. "Shit, was that him? He's a devil fruit user, I don't think he can--" His words were interrupted by a loud splash from the water directly below.

Bewildered, he looked back toward the spot where Aylin had just been standing, finding it suddenly vacant. "THE HELL? WE JUST FISHED HER OUT!!"

Down below, Aylin's mind was on autopilot as she swam for the spot where she'd seen the figure drop as quickly as her limbs could take her. He couldn't swim. She was determined to reach him before he drowned. If...if he was still alive...

The next few minutes passed in a blur. She didn't feel the cold of the choppy sea, didn't notice her muscles complaining of fatigue, didn't pay any attention to the way her lungs burned from exertion. She dove underwater without stopping to catch her breath, searching in the dark, reaching out for any sign of a body. Each passing second found her more frantic, and the panic building in her chest was accompanied by a worsening ache in the back of her throat.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, her fingers grasped wet fabric. Reaching down with her other hand, Aylin wrapped them both around an arm. Kicking her legs against the water, she pulled them both upward until they broke through the surface. It was only then that she spared a moment to make sure that she'd grabbed the right person.

He was still; his eyes closed, his expression blank. His sopping blonde hair stuck to his forehead in clumps as his head lolled back, marred with cuts and bruises.

Aylin felt her heart freeze in her chest. She threw one of his arms around her shoulders, nor wasting another second as she swam for the ship.  
"You better live," she declared around the lump swelling inside her throat. "Damn it, Roci, you better Goddamn live!! Please...please just live...!"

 

oOo

 

Rocinante felt like he weighed a thousand pounds. His skin felt tight, as though he were being constricted. When he managed to lift his head enough to look down, he noticed that he was fairly covered in white bandages. An IV line hung overhead dripped liquid into his right arm. His head felt so heavy that he immediately let it fall back onto the pillow.

What happened...?

The last thing he remembered was looking up at the rainy night sky as he fell from the cliff...the same cliff he’d pushed Aylin off of to save her life. But…there had been water down below; that was the only reason he’d pushed her. She wasn’t a Devil Fruit User, so he knew she’d be alright. Rocinante, on the other hand... He shouldn’t be alive right now. He should’ve sunk straight to the bottom.

Rocinante attempted to move each of his arms and legs just slightly to be sure he could still feel them and that they still worked. They did. He breathed a small sigh of relief, though even doing that much still hurt. He stared idly at the catheter in his arm and wondered just how long he’d been out. There were no windows in the room, so he had no idea what time of day it was. He felt desperately thirsty and noticed with relief a glass of water with some pain pills next to his bed. He reached for them with some difficulty, swallowed them down and then sighed, closing his eyes again for the briefest second.

Wait.

He knew this room all too well. He was back at the Syndicate headquarters! The next time he opened his eyes, the familiar face of Stokes was there, holding a pad a pencil and giving him a once over before moving to check his vitals.

“You sure have a penchant for trouble, Rocinante…”

“It’s a gift,” he responded weakly. “One of the reasons they hired me.”

Stokes snorted softly. “In any case, Wild will be glad to know you’re finally awake. You’ve definitely seen better days. Speaking of which, you’ve been out for about four of them now.”

“F-four days?!” Rocinante let himself flop completely onto the bed, releasing the tension in his shoulders. “Wa-wait, you said Lin’s name! She’s…she’s okay…?” A wave of relief washed through him.

“Yeah, she’s fine. Few cuts and bruises, but nothing extreme. Surprisingly," he added dryly as his pencil scratched across the pad of paper, presumably jotting down Rocinante's vitals. "Had you woken up about twenty minutes ago, you would have seen for yourself. Practically had to throw her out of here before she agreed to go eat some damned food. I swear..." He trailed off, wearing an expression of annoyance as he returned to his desk.

A silence settled over the room and the next few minutes passed by uneventfully. Had he been at all confident in his ability to move his legs appropriately, Rocinante might have attempted to get up and run from the room in search of Aylin. He needed to see her for himself, to be absolutely certain that she was alright.

But he didn’t need to. Moments later, the sound of the doorknob had his eyes snapping up toward the entrance. His heart practically cart-wheeled in his chest when he saw the familiar head of orange hair enter the room.

"L-Lin!" He called out to her as he weakly grinned from ear to ear.

Aylin remained at the door and didn't meet his eyes. Instead, she gave Stokes a look that he seemed to understand, because he nodded back and stepped past her to exit the room shortly afterward.

Rocinante tried again. "Hey...I'm so glad you're okay!"

She still said nothing. In fact, it was almost as if she was refusing to acknowledge him. She appeared to be staring at the floor, although he couldn’t really be sure because her eyes were hidden by a curtain of hair.

His smile faded slightly. "...Lin?"

He heard her emit a barely audible sigh and she finally looked up at him. She wore a dark expression; a frown tugged at her lips and creased her brow. Her posture was stiff, and her hands clenched and then unclenched at her sides as if she were gearing up for something. Something decidedly unpleasant.

Oh, no...

Rocinante heard alarm bells in the back of his mind; if the incident from four days ago hadn't killed him, then she was surely about to do the job herself.

Aylin finally pushed herself off the door just then and stepped toward him. Her lips twitched as if she wanted to say something, but had decided against it as she slowly strode over to the cot he was laid up in. There had been thousands of things, in fact, that she had thought about saying to him over the past few days; they ran the gamut of “You idiot!” to “Oh, thank God.” And, of course, now that she could tell him any one of those things, none of them really seemed enough. After all, how could she possibly put into words what she’d felt when she thought she might have lost him?

As Aylin drew closer to the hospital bed he rested upon, all she could think about was the way he had looked at her before he'd pushed her off the cliff. It had been all she’d thought about while waiting for him to wake up. His face had haunted her dreams every night in what little amount of sleep she'd been able to get.

Well, no more of that. She was through with thinking about it. Aylin reached his bedside and both hands shot out to grab the collar of his shirt. Rocinante winced slightly, bracing himself for the blow that he knew was coming.

Instead, she shocked him when she pulled herself closer and crushed her lips against his.

The kiss that was fervent and forceful and quickly became insistent. Rocinante was so dumbfounded that he couldn’t move at first, but her lips were warm and inviting and he found himself succumbing to her urgency, losing himself in her as he managed to pull her as close as possible.

This was what he’d been wanting all those months. He could hardly believe it was actually happening.

An indeterminable amount of time later they both pulled back with gasps, out of necessity more than anything else, their faces still close together, breath intermingling and foreheads touching.

Rocinante’s face split into a ridiculous smile. “You liar…” He managed to get out as he pulled further back to meet Aylin’s eyes as his hand lazily threaded through her hair.

She looked as though she were biting back a smile at that reference to their last argument, though she was unsuccessful as it tugged persistently at her lips. "Shut up," she retorted half-heartedly. She recovered quite quickly, giving him her best glare a moment later. "If you ever do that again..."

“What, you mean save your life?” He grinned cheekily at her before pulling her onto his bed and holding her close, pressing several soft kisses to her mouth. “Stay with me?”

She snorted softly. "Why not? I’ve been here for the past four days. You were lousy company, all unconscious," she teased as she curled up against him, one hand finding its way into his hair and absently stroking through it.

Rocinante sighed happily under her ministrations. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you. At this point though, I’m not even going to ask; as soon as I’m out of this bed and back on my feet, I’m taking you out for a nice dinner.”

For once, she didn’t object. He pulled her in for another long, lingering kiss, thinking he’d never tire of the feeling. He gently wrapped one of his arms around her as he drifted off again into a peaceful sleep.

 

oOo

 

As Rocinante soon found out, news of Denise's betrayal had spread throughout the Syndicate headquarters like wildfire. There were whispers in every corner and suspicions arising between the associates, causing much disarray among the ranks. If Maynard's treachery had been a blow to the organization, then this new threat surely posed the risk of unraveling them entirely.

Aylin filled him in on most of the details. While he had been unconscious for four days, everyone in the building had been scrambling to pack up all the valuables from every vault. Locks had been changed, passwords had been updated and security had become so tight that nobody was allowed in and out of the building without explicit permission and a member of the Inner Circle present. All assignments had been put on hold for the moment and there was talk of the entire operation being relocated. It certainly wouldn't be the first time, Aylin had noted, never guessing that Rocinante was already aware of that fact.

She remained busy herself; the mini den den mushi she had been given in the wake of the incident never seemed to stop ringing, and she was constantly being pulled from the medical bay to perform various tasks demanded of her. It left Rocinante with little to do other than stare at the ceiling and eavesdrop on whatever conversations he could hear happening outside of the door. Stokes in particular was a mumbling mess, scurrying about to box up all of his medical supplies. Soon enough, Rocinante found himself laying in the midst of a large, mostly empty room.

After about three days of enforced bed rest, Stokes finally cleared him for light activity, stressing that this only meant walking from point A to point B. However, it seemed that Aylin wasn't the only one waiting for Rocinante to get well. Mere minutes after Stokes had exited the medical bay, another man entered.

Rocinante noted the dark clothing and the trademark silver ponytail, and immediately felt his stomach twist into a knot.

Trying to hide his unease, he gave the smaller man a grin. “Fancy meeting you here, Clarke.”

The comment was met with a grunt. "I take it you can walk alright?" Clarke asked as he eyed the tall man's dressings. "This isn’t a conversation we can have here."

Rocinante nodded to the man and stood, following his lead, albeit more slowly than he would usually walk. He couldn’t afford to let his clumsiness hinder the progress of his recovery. Another fall would jostle some of the already numerous wounds. Rocinante found himself grabbing at corners, door frames, whatever he could get his hands on in order to steady himself.

Again he was led deep underground into the Inner Circle’s most secret room, the same place where he’d been appointed both Escort and Scout. He hadn’t been able to give a report yet due to both the failure of the mission and the unfortunate circumstances that followed. Even the Inner Circle’s room was nearly empty. It looked like the entirety of the Syndicate would be able to move at a moment’s notice.

Instead of the table and chairs from the last time, everyone was merely standing in a semi-circle as Clarke lead him to stand in front of them. Rocinante bowed carefully and clasped his hands behind his back, waiting to be addressed.

"Rocinante." Scarlet was all business as usual when she spoke to him, not a single note of sympathy in her tone. "We've been awaiting your report. As the Scout accompanying De LaCroix during her recent...abandonment of responsibility...we're all very eager to hear your account."

The tall man nodded and began to describe the incident to the group, down to even the most minute detail he could remember...well, except the accidental kiss that had happened between himself and Aylin upon first discovering that Maynard was a traitor. He figured Aylin would prefer that stay between the two of them and, after all, it had no relevance to the mission whatsoever.

He gesticulated animatedly as he spoke, nearly falling over at one point and grimacing as he pulled one of the wounds in his side. He recounted the tale all the way up to the point where he’d fallen off of the cliff at Raven Rock Cove.

“…and the next thing I remember is waking up here, in the med bay. There was no indication from Denise at all. I was completely shocked when she showed her true colors, she never gave any type of warning signs or bad behavior. She always had a really wide network at all the functions we went to, which seemed normal to me for someone in her position.”

He flushed slightly upon remembering how Denise had spent the night at the Pritchard Mansion and shown up looking like she hadn’t slept the next morning. Rocinante was sure she'd had some ulterior motives by doing that as well; Leblanc wasn’t exactly what you could call a lovable guy, but who knew? Denise could be up to anything. She could’ve given away any amount of intelligence to their rivals. He could see why they were so desperate for any kind of information.

The looks on their faces were stone cold and unmoving. It must be difficult to hold up such a façade, Rocinante thought, but he supposed that’s why they were the Inner Circle. He took care to memorize each face, repeating their names to himself over and over while they debated. Even though he’d given them full disclosure, it looked like there was more they had to say.

Finally, Clarke spoke up. "And what of your partner, Aylin Wild?"

The look of surprise on Rocinante's face prompted another man to elaborate. "We can't be too careful in the wake of such a devastating betrayal... Not a single soul had suspected Denise of this treachery. Surely you've noticed the increase in security all around you. We must all be careful with whom we place our trust..."

"Mind you, following De LaCroix's lead would be a very, very foolish thing for anyone to do. Particularly for Ms. Wild," Scarlet added. "I would hate to hear that our beloved Red Fox had made the mistake of placing her loyalty elsewhere..." She stared hard at Rocinante, her eyes boring into his from the other side of the circle.

Rocinante replied without a moment of hesitation, “She is completely loyal to the Syndicate. I’ve no doubt about it in my mind.”

He sincerely hoped that they would take his word and not question him further lest his own allegiances come under scrutiny. His first loyalty was to the Marines, of course, but now he felt a deep loyalty to Aylin as well. The very thought of her sent a rush of warmth through him.

Scarlet nodded, appearing to be convinced by his utmost sincerity. "Good. See to it that things remain as such. Keep a close eye on her in the meantime. It would be a shame to have to tell Blackburn that our grand plans couldn't come to fruition." She allowed the barest hint of a smirk to stretch her lips, and then gave him a nod. "That will be all for now. We will contact you again soon. In the meantime, I'm sure you've been made aware of the preparations the organization has been making. I trust you'll help as much as you are able."

“Of course…” Rocinante bowed again before turning and leaving with Clarke who once again guided him out of the deep Labyrinth that was the Inner Circle’s domain. He wondered if they’d be able to find a similar place at the new base of operations, but he figured they must have safe houses like this all over the world, remembering the hidden Society place they’d been to. And if not, he was sure they would build one on the backs of the grunts of the organization.

The way Scarlet had referred to Aylin worried him, though. Sure, it was a reasonable thing for them to ask in the grand scheme of things, but there seemed to be something more to it that Rocinante wasn’t aware of. He wondered if he should bring it up to Aylin… then again, she didn’t know about his new secret position so he’d have quite a bit of explaining to do.

It was certainly something to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: We're back and we come bearing a new chapter! Apologies for the unannounced hiatus; unfortunately life happens and steals our time and motivation now and then. BUT rest assured, we have no intention of abandoning this story whatsoever. Things are moving along, but we've got quite a ways to go yet!  
> So please let us know what you think! We truly love and value feedback, and to be perfectly honest, knowing that we have readers enjoying our writing definitely inspires us to churn out chapters much faster.  
> As always, thanks for reading! 'Til next time! :)


	20. Head Over Feet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is a song by Alanis Morissette and it honestly fits Roci and Aylin so well that it totally gives us RociLin feels when we hear it, lol

_You've already won me over in spite of me_  
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet  
And don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are  
I couldn't help it  
It's all your fault 

A few days later, the entire Syndicate sailed out in the middle of the night to the new island that would be their base of operations. It had been a great find; a vast bunker built deep into the mountainside of Konkin Archipelago. It was apparently one of the many deserted laboratories of the legendary Dr. Vegapunk. The location was especially ideal because of its isolation. As a former laboratory used for various experiments, it was nestled far away from most of civilization. The small towns that existed nearby appeared to have been long since deserted. 

The laboratory itself had been previously occupied by a large group of bounty hunters, though the Syndicate managed to seize it after a fair amount of effort. However, upon closer inspection, it seemed that every scrap of scientific worth within the structure had already been stripped. No matter, they only needed the space and the seclusion. The giant warning skull and crossbones on the many signs that lead to the place were enough to keep others away, and the rocky bay was more than big enough for all the exports and ships. Anything else the Syndicate would need, they could just build. 

Rocinante had only done some light work and lifting to help set everything up and he'd barely had a chance to see his partner. He missed her terribly, especially since they usually saw each other on a daily basis and often for hours at a time. And now that their relationship had become more than just professional…

He found the location of her new office the day after they'd arrived. It was much bigger and nicer than the old one, though the décor was a little odd considering they were using what was once separate, small labs as makeshift offices. There were still wires, outlets, and stains on the wall from being covered with various technical aspects that were no longer there. Luckily, aesthetic wasn’t a top priority of the Syndicate’s at the moment. 

Rocinante managed to find a single daisy growing between the outcropping of rocks near the bay and he brought it with him to Aylin’s office, holding it carefully in his large hand. He knocked on the open door, a shy look coming across his face, his heart leaping in his chest as she looked up at him and his face split into a relieved smile. 

“Hey stranger,” he half-whispered as her presented her with the small token.

Her eyes practically lit up at the sight of him, and she smiled at the gesture. 

"Thank you," she said, a slightly flirtatious air in her tone as she reached forward to accept the daisy. 

Her fingers brushed against his, and Rocinante was momentarily struck by how receptive she was to his small gift. It was a stark contrast to all the times before. He didn't have much time to contemplate this further, though, because a moment later she was grasping his hand and pulling him into her office. 

"Better come in, or they'll see you standing around and put you to work," she said with a roll of her eyes. 

He flushed as he followed her in, happy that she had closed the door behind them. He nearly tripped on…well, actually there was nothing there to trip on, but all of a sudden he felt very self-aware. Aylin released his hand, but he kept his grip on hers, not letting her go. Instead he knelt down, pulling her into an embrace. 

“I missed you…” He whispered, stroking his other hand through her hair.

She pressed her smile into his shoulder, hesitating for a moment before her arms snaked around him to return the hug. "I hate that things have been so crazy," she said as she sighed into his shirt, breathing in his scent. One hand slid carefully over his chest, fingertips grazing the bandage beneath the fabric of his shirt. "How are you feeling?" 

Rocinante hugged her as tightly as he dared. “I’m okay...still on ‘light duty,’ whatever that means…” He held her for a while longer before he pulled back, looking into her eyes and brushing the hair back from her face. His cheeks flushed pink as he realized how close his face was to hers. 

Deciding to momentarily throw caution to the wind, he closed the gap between them and kissed her fervently, pulling her back into his arms. There was something he wanted to discuss with her, but damn, it could wait a few seconds more. He was almost surprised yet again at the eagerness with which Aylin responded, her hands gripping the collar of his button-down shirt as she leaned into the kiss and pressed their mouths together. 

It had only been a few days, but amidst all the chaos and the stress of the move, it had felt like so much more.

They pulled back after a long moment, breathless, locking eyes with each other. Aylin gave him a small smile, her pale cheeks tinted with a healthy flush. 

"Do you want to sit down? I don't have any chairs yet, but I guess we can go sit on my cot," she said, gesturing with her eyes toward a plain white folding bed in one corner of the room. 

Rocinante nodded and followed her to the aforementioned cot. He gingerly sat, cringing when it let out a loud creak in protest of his weight. Feeling brave, he reached for Aylin and gently tugged her into his lap. She made no move to resist, even leaned forward against him, so he rested his arms gently around her waist and snuggled into her shoulder. 

After a minute of contented silence, he said, “Lin…I wanted to talk to you about something. It happened right before the Syndicate move, but it’s got me worried.”  
Aylin quirked an eyebrow. "Okay. What's going on?" Sensing his unease, she reached up to rub his shoulder in a reassuring manner.

“I’m not supposed to tell you what I’m about to tell you, but...I feel like I have to. You mean more to me than this title does. Lin…the thing is, when they promoted me to Escort, that wasn’t the only thing they did. They made me a Scout, too.” He paused for a few seconds at Aylin’s sharp intake of breath, but she didn’t say anything further so he continued. 

“Before we moved here, I had a meeting with the Inner Circle about Denise’s betrayal. After I told them everything I knew, they asked me about you...and whether your loyalty was questionable. Of course I told them you were completely loyal, since I know you’re really doing this for your daughter, but the way they talked about you and looked at me when they mentioned you…” He frowned and shook his head slightly. “I just have this really terrible feeling. It worries me. Why this? Why now?”

Aylin closed her eyes, resting her head against his shoulder as one cool hand reached up to cradle his cheek, gently thumbing his warm skin. She was silent for a moment before she finally replied, "I don't know. They keep a lot to themselves. It could mean anything. But you shouldn't worry about it. I don’t intend to give them any reason to think I’ll betray them." Her fingers made a feather-light trail down his cheek to his jaw, a small smirk on her lips. "More importantly, you realize you just broke the cardinal rule by telling me they made you a Scout, right? They've killed people for less."

Rocinante shivered slightly under her touch. “I don’t care…I wanted you to know. It's not like you’re going to go gossip about it. I trust you.” He smiled and pulled back so he could see her face, grasping her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm.

If only she knew all the other things about him, he suddenly thought. He'd been withholding the truth from her all along, and he knew it would only become harder the further their relationship progressed. He wondered, would she be upset? Would she hate him for it? There was no doubt in his mind that she deserved to know...but now didn’t feel like the right time for full disclosure. 

No, not yet... 

Wanting to lighten the mood now that they finally had some time alone together, he smiled. “So, about that date…I know I said I wouldn’t ask, but I really want to hear you say 'yes' for once.” His grin widened. “So...Lin, what do you say? Will you go out with me?”

She scoffed, although she was smiling as she answered, “Yes, I will go on a date with you, Roci.”

Rocinante mock-gasped and clutched at his chest. “Oh my gosh, you finally said yes!!!” He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “I guess the hundredth time is the charm, eh?”

Aylin sighed, rolling her eyes. “You already knew what my answer would be.”

“I don’t care! I loved hearing it so much!” Roci’s grin widened, and he thought in the back of his mind that it was good he'd put up the silent barrier...for more than one reason. He idly wondered somewhere in the back of his mind if they’d remembered to lock the door, as the barrier could end up working against them as well, but in the next second he didn’t even care because he was so happy. 

“Wow, so what should we do on our first official date? Dinner? Dancing? A romantic walk?” 

Aylin gave him an amused look. "I think dancing is a no-go for you. Which is fine, it’s not really my thing anyway. Besides, I don’t know how much you’ve seen of this island so far, but it’s kind of a ghost town. Perfect for that walk, though dinner in the new mess hall would probably not be romantic."

“Ahh, that’s right! Damn, I really wanted to see you in that little black dress again...” A healthy flush bloomed across Rocinante’s cheeks.

Aylin smirked up at him through half-lidded eyes. “Well, who says I can’t still wear it?”

He fairly beamed at that response. “Would you?! I thought you looked so beautiful in it that I could barely take my eyes off of you.”

She gave him a knowing look. “So I noticed.”

Rocinante’s blush intensified. “Ah, you did, huh? I’m so embarrassed! I hope I wasn’t staring too you much…I wasn’t trying to be a creeper or anything! You see…” He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently. “…I love you, Lin…so much…” He pulled the smaller woman close and leaned down until their foreheads touched. 

Aylin blushed deeply at his words, though she wasn't surprised that he was being so open with his affections. He had always been that sort of person and she supposed she still wasn't entirely used to it. Still, hearing those words from someone who genuinely meant them felt so nice that she couldn’t help the smile stretching her lips once more. She relaxed against him, running her hands along his broad shoulders. 

“It's alright, I didn’t think that.” In truth, she’d been staring at him just as much; it was a relief that she could finally admit that to herself.

Rocinante pulled her closer into his embrace, enjoying the way her hands felt on him. He leaned further down, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, followed by one in the crook of her neck. He leaned up to kiss her cheek, and then finally, after hesitating a brief second, he claimed her lips.

Aylin sighed at the sensation, returning his kiss eagerly as she framed his face with her hands, eventually moving to clasp them around his neck. 

When they finally pulled back slightly for air, she chuckled huskily. “You know, I don’t really care what we do, or where we go…this is enough for me. We don't have to--”

Rocinante cut her off with another long, lingering kiss. “No way, Lin. I’m going to take you on a fabulous date, followed by more of this…” He ran his hands up and down her arms gently, finally settling them at her waist. 

“Well,” he continued, “I may pass out from exertion first if we keep this up for long, but…” He pressed several more gentle kisses to her lips, then one to her forehead as he continued to hold her close. “I’m so happy right now…”

Aylin murmured agreeably as she rested her head against him. She was quickly discovering how good it felt to be able to let go of everything that had been holding her back from this; to be free to explore her feelings for Rocinante. Sitting there with him, feeling the warmth of his body encompassing hers and listening to the steady beat of his heart, she almost couldn’t remember why she’d ever resisted in the first place. It was a level of intimacy that she'd not experienced in so long that she'd honestly forgotten how wonderful it could be. She moved to bury her face in the crook of his neck, placing a small kiss at his collarbone.

Rocinante closed his eyes, enjoying the way she felt tucked against him. She was warm and soft, and now she was his. He smiled as he traced tiny circles on her back with the fingertips of one of his hands. 

“Lin,” he whispered and then pulled back to look at her, tracing the outline of her face and brushing his knuckles against her cheek. “I’m always…so stunned by how beautiful you are,” he finished breathlessly, drinking her in with his eyes. He still had to remind himself every day that this was real, that he wasn't dreaming.

Aylin felt her cheeks heat up almost immediately and found herself fairly speechless. She'd heard him spout compliments many times before, although she'd always simply assumed that it was just part of his kindhearted nature and hadn't given any of them a second thought. She had never imagined that he'd truly meant each one. 

Not sure how to respond, she simply let out a soft, somewhat flustered chuckle.

He smiled again when he met her eyes, but quickly found himself tearing up and he rushed to hide his face in the crook of her neck, letting out a nervous laugh as he did so. A single tear managed to slip out and Rocinante’s face flushed as it fell onto the bare skin of Aylin’s shoulder. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise and she felt her heart clench at his display of honest emotion.

“Ah, dammit,” he muttered as he wrapped his arms around her again and gave her a small squeeze. “Don’t laugh at me…”

"No," she quietly assured him, responding by leaning her head against his and combing through his hair with her fingers. "It's okay." 

She rubbed his shoulder with her free hand and wondered what it must have been like for him during the entire time she had been wrestling with her own inner turmoil. Surely something like torture, she surmised. But in the end, despite the mountain of reasons she had come up with for why they shouldn't be together, Aylin had decided to choose happiness. 

Even if doing so went against her better judgment. Even if there was no way for them to ever have a normal life. 

Aylin had found herself with a lot of time to think things over while she was waiting for Rocinante to wake up in the medical bay. Everything he’d said during their last argument had been true; she'd had a lot of excuses, but none of them had anything to do with their compatibility. They’d been just that--excuses. Ultimately, she came to the conclusion that she'd lied to him because she had been too afraid to admit to her feelings for him and take a chance. Years ago, she had decided that her own happiness was unimportant and therefore not worth pursuing. She lived her life only for the sake of securing a future for her child. That was what her very existence had become about. She supposed she'd become entirely too complacent with it.

But then Rocinante had come along, and little by little, he began to change tiny pieces of her life until one day she realized she couldn't imagine living it without him by her side. Treading water beneath that sheer cliff, listening to the racket of gunfire above, she'd felt frantic despair at the very real possibility that he could be killed. Sitting beside his bed a day later, she'd felt her heart fill with a crushing emptiness at the thought of him never waking up. 

That was when she made up her mind. Hadn't she wasted enough time on emptiness? Would it be so bad if the both of them could grasp even the slightest shred of happiness within this miserable, corrupt lifestyle? Perhaps she didn't deserve that much, but Aylin was quite sure that she could no longer subsist without it. 

“Thanks Lin…” Rocinante mumbled against her neck as he continued to just breathe there for awhile. When he finally pulled back, he was smiling. “I love holding you…and I just love you. I hope you’re ready to hear me say that every day…but if you don’t like hearing it that much, let me know.” He reached for the hand that had been resting on his arm, bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. 

The corners of Aylin's lips turned up slightly. "It's...just going to take some getting used to," she admitted.

Rocinante looked down at her with an expression akin to reverence as he kissed each of her fingertips, the palm of her hand, her wrist and her forearm, making a trail that inevitably led back to her lips. He felt like a teenager again, a time that in truth wasn't too long ago. He didn’t have much prior experience with kissing, but he was doing the best he could and Aylin didn't seem to have any complaints with his technique. He kissed her chastely and gently, several times, pulling back to look at her after each one before threading his fingers through her hair and deepening the next kiss, making it much like the one she'd given him after he had woken up in the med bay.

The both of them were short-winded when they pulled away, just slightly, noses still touching. Aylin gasped softly, feeling his hot puffs against her mouth. She found herself wanting to stay like this all day, just being together, kissing each other, exploring each other...it was nicer than she ever imagined it could be. It only made her want more of it. Her lips sought out his once more and they melded together again, breathing each other in as their hands roamed as much as they dared.

She let out a breathless laugh when they broke away once more, her face painted with a healthy flush. "You put up your barrier, didn't you?" She said in a low voice as she smirked, her fingers toying with the collar of his shirt. "I thought it was unusually quiet. People are going to come looking for us, you know..."

“Nah, they’re too busy getting everything set up. I think we’ll be safe for a little while… I’ll keep an eye on the door.” Rocinante grinned at her. “Though that’s extremely difficult when such a beautiful lady is sitting in my lap…” 

His heart felt like it would burst in that moment as he held the woman he loved. The woman who loved him back. That was the thing that most surprised him; that she did, in fact, return his feelings. Of course, he had always dared to hope, even when things looked hopeless. Even when she’d lied to his face about her feelings, that spark of hope had always remained. 

Didn't they both deserve to be happy? That happiness found within each other...it was such a great treasure. He just wanted to bask in it for a while. The mission was still there, but it would keep. He had to bite his lip to keep from telling her he loved her yet again. He didn't want the words to lose their meaning, but he couldn't help but feel like there was so much time to make up for. He had so many questions; would she open up to him this time if he dared to ask?

Rocinante slid a warm hand down her shoulder and grasped her hand in his, attempting to thread their fingers though it was a more difficult task than he thought it would be given the size of his hands. He blushed and contented himself to just clasp her hand.

“...When did you know...?” He finally plucked up the courage to ask. “When did you know you had feelings for me, Lin?"

She blinked. “When? Hmm…”

Aylin turned her gaze downward and staring at their hands for a moment while she considered the question. If she were being honest, she hadn't even recognized it when it happened; it was the sort of thing that had just crept up on her. But, thinking back, there was a certain moment that stuck out in her mind. One noble, heroic,  
act that had changed the way she’d looked at him.

When she met his eyes again, she wore a rather coy smile as she replied, "When you rescued that little girl during the whole Society mess... I was surprised, and..." She trailed off, finding herself unable to explain to him why his heroism had meant so much to her in that particular situation. "...I guess that was the moment I knew. When I saw how much you were willing to risk to keep that innocent kid safe, that was when something changed."

Rocinante’s face split into a huge grin at her disclosure and he squeezed her hand tightly. "That long ago…oh, Lin! I’m too happy to wish things had happened any other way right now. I’m just glad I know. I didn’t mean to almost die on you. Leaving you is the last thing I want to do. We’re partners…and now we’re…” He trailed off, wondering if it was appropriate to put a label on this brand new dynamic. His feelings for her had been there for some time already, only held back by her reluctance. In the end, he said, “...now we’re more…” 

He extricated one of his hands, moving it up the curve of her waist, over her shoulder and up her neck, a thrill going through him as she leaned into his touch. He lifted her chin ever so gently before leaning down for another long kiss, memorizing the taste of her, relishing her soft sounds and how she fit so perfectly in his arms.

"And," Aylin whispered against his lips between kisses, "what about you?" She kissed him once more. "As long as we're being forthcoming..." She ran her hands up the length of his broad chest, settling them around his neck. "When did you know...?"

Rocinante’s eyes glazed over slightly from all her kisses and he looked down at her. He chuckled, feeling his cheeks flush. “Well, remember that time we almost died? Ah, I guess I should be more specific, eh? After the mission that turned out to be a trap, where we thought we were meeting a prospective client but it turned out to be Don Fettuccine Alfredo…that’s when I started falling in love with you, and I never stopped. I knew something was different, but it wasn’t until a few weeks later that I realized what it was.”

She stared at him, thinking back to that time, and indeed found herself recalling that something had seemed different after that assignment. She grinned suddenly. All along, Aylin had simply thought that the mission had worn him out psychologically, and attributed his amplified awkwardness to some sort of post-traumatic stress.

She had never guessed the real reason for it.

He tucked her head under his chin, holding her close with one hand as the other brushed through her hair. They would have to be careful, Aylin reminded herself; relationships within the Syndicate often didn't last long, due in part to the tendency for those bonds to be used against those who had forged them. She had seen many go down in flames that way. Keeping things to themselves would prove rather difficult, however, as evidenced by the fact that people like Maynard had assumed they were together even when they weren't.

She felt his fingers fall from her hair to trace invisible paths down her back, a touch that was innocent enough but still incited a shiver and a longing that she'd not dared to put a label on until now.

"Roci," she began, breathing against his neck, drawn in by his warmth and the faint scent of his skin. 

But before she could get another word out, her den den mushi began to ring from atop her desk. Rocinante groaned at the sound as Aylin reluctantly pulled away from him to answer. 

“Work calls, eh? I guess I should get back to resting for the day. Stokes wouldn’t like seeing me up and about for too long.” He snorted softly as the den den mushi continued to ring. He snapped his fingers, dispelling the Silent bubble that had encompassed Aylin’s office.

Aylin reached her desk, grudgingly picking up the receiver and quieting the snail. "Yes?" She appeared to be listening for a long moment and turned to lean against her desk, her eyes meeting Rocinante's every now and then. "...Really? Again? ...Alright, tell them I'll be there in a few minutes. I have some business to finish up here first," she said, her tone never betraying her blatant lie. A moment later she hung up and shook her head. "It's always something around here...Priscilla seems to have lost her keys for the third time."

Rocinante chuckled at this information. “Wow. I didn’t peg her for the type! Well, we’ve all been scrambling around like crazy these past few weeks anyway. Except me, doctor’s orders and all.” He cringed a bit as he stood up from his seat on the cot. “Don’t work too hard, okay?”

She scoffed, "As if that's a promise I can make."

He smiled and, not trusting himself to keep his balance if he bent over, kissed his fingers instead and then pressed them to Aylin’s lips, delighting in the dark flush that spread over her pale cheeks. 

“I’ll see you later.”

She nodded, a soft look on her face as she watched him walk out the door. "Watch your head."

“Ow!” The warning had come seconds too late and Rocinante poked his head back in with a sheepish smile before heading back to his room. 

oOo

Most of the Syndicate men and women had been assigned to one of the military style barracks to lay their heads, but the higher ranking officials each had their own rooms. Rocinante’s room was the same size as his bedroom back on Agora island in Penndel, down to the size of cot they’d given him. He’d managed to weasel a second cot, however, and it just barely fit his ten-foot frame when pushed end-to-end with the first.

He laid down, groaning a bit at the still healing wounds in his side. It was then that Rocinante reached down into his bag where he kept all his personal effects and pulled out his den den mushi. 

” He snapped his fingers, creating a bubble around himself, picking up the receiver and dialing the number he knew by heart.

A few seconds later, Sengoku picked up on the other end. "Muffins? Is that you?" He asked cautiously.

“Bagels! It’s so good to hear your voice.” He smiled into the receiver, though he became serious seconds later as he noted the worry in the older man’s tone. “Yes, I’ve got so much to tell you, I’m sorry it’s been awhile since my last report you see…”

"Yes, I noticed," came the gruff response. "Did something happen?"

“One of our high ranking officials betrayed the Syndicate to this rival organization, the Hive, and we ended up having to move our entire base of operations…” Rocinante went on to describe the debacle from start to finish, leaving out the details about his and Aylin’s relationship and how it contributed to his actions. 

“I was out for a few days after the incident at Raven Rock Cove, but don’t worry! The doctor has almost completely cleared me. You should see all the new scars I’ve gotten since I joined the Syndicate, quite the collection!”

Sengoku snorted, apparently not amused by that remark. "Well, so long as you're alright. It sounds like the Syndicate was dealt a massive blow...this could very well lend itself to their undoing. I'll see if I can uncover anything about useful about the Hive...perhaps we can use them to our advantage."

“Great! I bet we can!” Rocinante was fairly bursting to tell Sengoku about his new romance, but he knew without a doubt he couldn’t. It was, however wonderful, a distraction. Rocinante knew that, but he also knew it was impossible control an emotion like love. 

Having been cooped up and not working for a while, Rocinante was a little tired of all the business talk. Sengoku was always direct and straight to the point in their calls, and he decided it was time to change that. 

“So, enough about work, Sengoku. Tell me, how’s the family doing? Buki still wanting to join the marines when he gets older?”

"Ah...he certainly is!" A crunching sound came through the receiver as Sengoku began eating his favorite snack. "I'm trying to set him up part-time this summer as a  
Chore Boy," he chuckled. "Buki seems excited by it."

“I remember the days when I was a Chore Boy. Good times!” Rocinante laughed into the receiver. “And Sanga-san? I do miss her home cooked meals, even if some of them had weird ingredients…well, except the wheatgrass juice…” He made a face remembering it’s pungent smell and strong taste.

"Don't remind me! She won't let me out of the house in the morning without some disgusting concoction in my thermos..." He sighed. "Oh, the wife is doing just fine. Up to her elbows writing those uncouth novels of hers, as usual. Buki found one the other day and questioned me all afternoon..." He grumbled to himself a bit more about his wife's hobbies costing him his dignity before stuffing more okaki into his mouth. 

Rocinante burst into hysterical laughter, thinking about how poor Sengoku must have been utterly mortified. He wiped at the tears that started to come out of his eyes in his mirth as a memory of a similar situation surfaced. 

“Ahh, Bagels! I remember when you had that talk with me! Sanga-san’s novels have educated lots of young boys over the years, I’d wager.”

"If you don't mind, I'd really rather not think of it..." The older man grimaced as he swallowed a mouthful of crackers. "Anyway...mission details aside, tell me...how have you been?"

Rocinante paused for a moment, a huge smile spreading across his face as he thought about Aylin. “Oh...um, I…great, great, I’m great! You know, except for the almost dying part.” He laughed awkwardly into the receiver as Sengoku continued to crunch on his okaki. “But really, I’m doing fine, there’s no need to worry, just  
another scar for my collection!”

"Yes, you mentioned that already..." Sengoku didn't miss the telltale nuance in the young man's answer, though he supposed if it were important then Rocinante would have certainly told him what he'd purposely left out. 

The Fleet Admiral found himself wondering if this skirting around had anything to do with the partner that Rocinante appeared to be smitten with. Sengoku wasn't the most perceptive man when it came to romance, but he'd been young once and he knew the signs. He also knew that it was useless to tell the youngster that getting involved was a terrible idea. Rocinante tended to get himself mixed up in peoples' lives regardless. That was just the sort of person he had always been, and it inevitably ended in some sort of heartbreak each time. 

Sengoku wanted to say something more to caution the young marine, to try and spare him of more pain, though at that point he was quite sure anything he said would be akin to beating a dead horse. 

In the end, Sengoku decided to bite his tongue on the matter. "Alright then," he said after a short pause. "I won't keep you much longer. I'm sure you have much to do in the coming days. Just...be careful, Rocinante. Don't forget about the danger you’re in."

The young man smiled into the receiver once more, Sengoku wasn’t a touchy-feely man by any means, but his words definitely conveyed how much he cared to Rocinante. “Of course I will, Sengoku, I will succeed in this mission, I promise you. Nothing is going to get in the way of my goals. Tell the family I said hi, and I’ll visit as soon as I can. You take care of yourself as well.”

"Of course," Sengoku replied. "Until next time, then." He hung up a moment later and the connection was cut, leaving Rocinante in silence.


End file.
